The Deal
by cindy123
Summary: Story written for the Sam's bday fic exchange over at CWESS.  Dean is injured and Sam makes a deal to save him.  Very hurt/limp Dean...Guilty/hurt Sam...Guilty John.  Dean age 18...Sam age 13.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, I know its been ages since I posted a story. Its been a difficult summer. My grandma became seriously ill and passed away and I just haven't been motivated to write anymore. This story was started before her illness. It is being written for the Sam's bday fic exchange over at CWESS for MysteryMadchen. I decided the only way it was going to be finished was to start posting it. That way I'll have to begin writing again. I will post a chapter every few days or so.**

**The prompt: Dean is seriously injured and Sam makes a deal with a creature to exchange one of his senses in order to save his brother's life.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them and I'm not making any money from this story. It's all for fun.**

**Very hurt/limp Dean (age 18) Guilty/hurt Sam (age 13) Distraught/Guilty John.**

**The Deal**

_March, 1997_

Sam sat in the uncomfortable chair, his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his legs as his red, swollen eyes stared at the still form of his brother lying silently in the hospital bed. His father sat hunched on the other side of the bed. He could barely make out the soft cries coming from John over the sound of the machines that were keeping Dean alive. The doctor had left over an hour ago, but the devastation his words had caused lingered on. That kind of devastation would never go away. Sam could remember snippets of the conversation, but the grief had left him shell shocked and at the moment he had a hard time remembering his own name. Phrases like '_brain-dead' _and '_I'm sorry, but there's nothing more we can do' _had thoroughly ended life as Sam had known it. Neither he nor his father would ever be the same.

Dean, at the ripe old age of eighteen, was for all intents and purposes, dead. The machines kept his heart beating and forced air into his lungs, but the things that made him Dean…his personality, his snarky sense of humor, his incredible protectiveness were gone along with his non-existent brain functions. To look at him, one would think he was merely sleeping, if you could overlook the tube that protruded from his mouth and the extreme paleness of his face. But, he wasn't sleeping. At least not from a sleep he would ever wake up from. The harpy had made sure of that. The memory of Dean being flung through the air, his body smashing head long into a large tree caused Sam to shudder involuntarily. Sam could still hear his father's rage filled scream as he went after the harpy and destroyed her. It had all been a blur after that…John trying to get his son to wake up and Sam crying out his guilt over and over and over again.

John hadn't had time to comfort Sam or to tell him it wasn't his fault. No, he'd had a son to save. The unhurt one would just have to deal on his own. Sam had followed numbly behind his father and unresponsive brother as they'd trudged out of the woods, the harpy's body forgotten, left for scavengers to take care of. He'd climbed into the back seat of the Impala while John had gently placed Dean in the front. The frantic trip to civilization then to the hospital seemed to have taken a lifetime, but in reality had taken less than half an hour. Dean had been rushed away, behind swinging doors, leaving John and Sam to sit in numb silence while awaiting word of the beloved young man's condition. At some point, John had taken Sam and checked him over before pushing him back down into his hard chair. He hadn't said a word, just checked Sam for injuries then turned away, lost in his fear and anger.

That'd been a week ago and Dean had never woken up, never moved or made a sound. Neither Sam nor John had left the room other than to visit the bathroom down the hall or the coffee pot and vending machines in the vending room. The nurses on the ICU ward had made sure blankets and pillows were provided for sleeping and that food was brought in and eaten. They'd brought Sam books and even a small television, but he didn't have the heart to look at any of them. How could he think of anything other than his brother and how Dean was lying in that bed, hooked up to those machines because of him? No, it wasn't really Sam's fault, but then again, in Sam' eyes, it was. Dean hadn't wanted Sam to come along on the hunt. He had voiced his concerns, but John didn't feel safe leaving Sam alone in the motel with the looks of some of the other guests staying there. The harpy had of course focused on Sam, had been on her way to rip him apart and Dean had jumped in front of him, had taken the hit instead. John had killed her before she'd taken another step and then the maddening trip to the hospital had begun. So, although Sam had technically done nothing wrong, his apparent lack of being able to watch after himself had led his father to make him come on the hunt and the rest was history. Dean was dying and Sam wasn't and all Sam could think about was how wrong that was.

Sam shook his head, clearing the memories from his mind. He focused his attention on his family…on the soft cries of his father and the unmoving form of his beloved brother. Slowly, he stood and shuffled around the bed until he stood beside his father's chair. He reached out, his hand shaking, and gently grasped John's shoulder.

"D-Dad?" he whispered, his voice sounding raw to his ears.

John turned his head and glanced hollowly at his youngest son. His eyes were red and swollen, just like Sam's, but it was the haunted look in them that broke Sam's heart even more than it was already broken. He'd never seen his father like this. He could imagine this was how he'd been when his Mary had died, but Sam couldn't know for sure.

"I can't lose him," John croaked before turning back to Dean, his hand reaching up to tenderly stroke Dean's cool cheek.

Sam's eyes filled as he backed away from his father. He cast his gaze to his brother, to his Dean and he knew it should be him lying there. Glancing away from his brother to his grief stricken father, Sam knew what he had to do. He had to find a way to save Dean, to give his brother back to his father. He'd do whatever needed to be done to make sure that Dean came back, whole and untouched. He'd give whatever needed to be given because Dean deserved to live.

"I'm gonna fix this, Dad…I'm gonna get him back for you," Sam whispered, but John was too lost in his grief to hear the boy's soft vow.

Sam spared his brother, then his father one last glance before he silently slipped out of the room. He knew what he could do. He'd read a lot about it at Bobby's house. All he had to do was get a few things from the Impala and then he had to find a crossroads.

SN

Nicole Huntley hummed softly as she silently made her way down the corridor. She'd been working in the ICU of St. Peters for going on five years now, and though a great deal of her patients never left the ward alive, she still loved her job. She loved that she could provide some form of comfort to the extremely ill and injured and that she could offer their families the same. She stopped humming as she came to room three. This case, this family was different somehow from most of the others she'd seen over the years. The love and devotion shown to the injured young man was overwhelming at times, as was the grief. This family had really gotten under her skin like no other family had in the past and she had found herself in the hospital chapel on numerous occasions, praying for a miracle. A miracle was what this family needed because nothing less was going to save young Dean Winchester. Nothing more could be done, but the father refused to allow them to turn off his life support. He refused to believe that his son was never waking up. It broke Nicole's heart, but not nearly as much as the younger brother did.

Sam Winchester was small for his age. Sweet, polite and soft spoken, he was not like any other thirteen year old Nicole had ever met. He offered her a smile every time she came into the room despite the circumstances. She watched him with his brother, how he held his hand and whispered into his ear. The soft kisses he gave to a hand or a cheek. But, in Sam's eyes Nicole couldn't find a young boy. The innocence and wonder that should have been in those eyes was not there. Instead, his beautiful hazel eyes conveyed someone way beyond Sam's years, like he'd seen way too much, maybe suffered more than his fair share of pain and heartbreak. He was haunted and his eyes showed it. It was partly due to the dire situation the family found themselves in, Nicole was certain of that, but there was much more to the story than just that. Nicole would never ask, but she knew this family had been through a lot to put that haunted look into such a young boy's eyes and that broke her heart more than anything she'd ever encountered in all her forty two years.

Nicole took a deep breath and let it out on a soft sigh before pushing the door open and stepping into the room. John Winchester was in his usual spot on the right side of his son's bed, his dark eyes watching the unconscious young man wearily. Nicole frowned when she saw the vacant chair on the other side of the bed, the one that usually held Sam. The boy was seldom out of the chair and Nicole had an instant of worry before she shrugged her shoulders, assuming Sam had merely gone to the bathroom. She stepped up to the bed and put on a smile she really didn't feel and glanced over at John.

"Hello, Mr. Winchester. I'm just going to check Dean over and change his dressing. If you'd like to go get something to eat, I'll stay until you get back," Nicole said softly, her deft fingers working at pulling the hospital gown up so she could get to the wound on Dean's chest.

John flinched slightly at the nurse's words, as if he hadn't heard her come into the room. He slowly lifted his dark eyes and stared at her for a moment. "N-No…I'm fine," he said hoarsely before returning his gaze to his son.

Nicole nodded, expecting nothing less from the father, and went back to work on changing the dressing that covered the entire left side of Dean's torso. The animal that had attacked him had nearly gutted him, slicing him from his collarbone to his hipbone before slamming him into a tree. It was amazing that he'd survived the trip off of the mountain and to the hospital. Nicole taped the new dressing into place, pulled down Dean's gown then glanced behind her at the still empty chair. Concern was rising within her now, telling her that something was wrong. She couldn't explain it, but she could sense that the young boy could be in some sort of danger. She turned her head toward John and cleared her throat.

"Mr. Winchester…where's Sam?" she asked, her voice rising above the beeps and swooshes of the machines and monitors that surrounded the bed.

John raised his eyes and looked over at Sam's chair, his brow furrowing when he saw that it was indeed empty. He looked up into expectant blue eyes and shook his head. "Uh…I don't know. Said something about fixing something…I think," he replied, his voice showing no emotion, just total and utter exhaustion.

"Fixing something? Fixing what? How long ago did he leave?" Nicole continued, her worry rising at the seeming lack of concern for the boy from his father.

"I don't know. He's fine," John said dismissively, his eyes already back on his eldest son's face. "Probably just out getting some fresh air or something," he finished.

"Mr. Winchester, I don't think he should be by himself right now. He's not doing well at all…"

"Sam'll be fine. I can't leave Dean…gotta be here when he wakes up," John said absently as he reached up to take Dean's hand.

Nicole watched the father for a few moments then shook her head. He was in denial. All perfectly normal, except he had another son to think about and he seemed to have forgotten that. He didn't even seem to have noticed that Sam had left the room. The boy was mature beyond his years, but he was still just a boy when you got right down to it and in the emotional state he was in, he shouldn't be wandering around by himself. Finally, Nicole turned and walked to the door. She stopped before opening the door then turned to look over her shoulder.

"I'll look for Sam for you," she said softly.

If John heard her, he didn't acknowledge it. His hand continued to hold his son's, his attention completely on the dying young man. Nicole sighed as she pulled the door open and stepped out of the room. Her blue eyes scanned the corridor, but there was no sign of the missing boy. She hurried to the nurse's station just down the hall a ways and got the attention of the nurse there.

"Beverly, have you seen Sam Winchester go by this way?" she asked as calmly as she could.

Beverly Newson looked up from the monitors she was watching and furrowed her brow. "That sweet little boy who's brother is in room three?" she asked, biting at her lip when Nicole nodded. "Uh…no, I haven't seen him since I came on two hours ago," she continued.

"Crap," Nicole muttered as her eyes once more scanned the hallway and surrounding area. If Sam left the ward, he would have had to go by the nurse's station and Beverly was not one to miss anything that happened on her shift. That meant that if Sam did leave and wasn't just hiding out somewhere, he would have been gone for longer than two hours.

"Nicole, what's wrong?" Beverly asked worriedly.

"I was just in to change his brother's dressing and Sam isn't there. I thought he'd gone to the bathroom, but he still wasn't back by the time I was finished," Nicole answered.

"Does his father know where he went?" Beverly queried.

"No…he wasn't even aware that the kid wasn't there," Nicole answered sadly.

"That poor man. It's no wonder really. He's just been told that his son is brain dead…"

"I know that, Beverly, but he has another son who needs him. A son who seems to be missing at the moment," Nicole replied as she stepped back from the counter.

"Maybe he just needed to get out of the room for a bit. They both have been in there for a week. He could be in the waiting area or the bathroom or even in one of the vacant rooms," Beverly said, hoping to ease her co-worker's worry a bit.

Nicole nodded and gave the other nurse a small smile. She could be right of course. There were plenty of places for a boy to hide if he just needed to get away for awhile, but still be close to his loved ones. Nicole took a deep breath and slowly let it out. That had to be it. Sam wouldn't leave his brother. His devotion was an inspiration and the nurse couldn't imagine him leaving the ward. No, he was most likely hiding somewhere, just needing some time to himself. Nicole was certain that the next time she went in to check on her patient, his brother would be right where he'd been from the first day. She glanced once more down the hall to where room three was then turned in the opposite direction. She had other patients to check up on. She'd go back and talk to Sam once she was finished with them.

SN

Sam stopped as he finally came to a crossroad, the boy dropping his backpack at his feet before scanning the darkening forest around him. He felt lucky that the current city they called home was built on the side of mountains, and even luckier that the hospital was a mere six blocks from the beginning tree line. He'd found a dirt road almost immediately upon entering the forest and had hoped to find a connecting road not too far from there. He'd traveled nearly two miles before said crossroad had appeared. Sam wasted no time in pulling a small shovel from his pack and getting to work on digging a hole in the hard dirt. Once the hole was dug, he pulled a small cardboard box from the pack and checked its contents to make sure he had everything he needed for the summoning. Once he was certain everything was in order, he dropped the box into the hole and covered it with dirt before standing, his hazel eyes searching the darkness for movement.

"Come on," he said as he turned in a circle, his heart racing when nobody appeared. This had to work, he had to save his brother. Sam couldn't help but jump when a voice suddenly sounded from behind him.

"Well, well, well…little Sammy Winchester. To what do I owe the pleasure?" the woman's voice said in a slow, sultry tone.

Sam spun around, his eyes widening at the beautiful woman before him. "I…I want to make a deal," he finally sputtered.

The woman smiled and stepped toward the shaking boy. "Do I look like Monty Hall to you?" she asked with a smirk.

"What? Who?" Sam asked, a puzzled look on his face.

The woman rolled her eyes and walked closer to Sam. She reached down and cupped his chin then lifted his face up to meet hers. "What does the son of a hunter want with a crossroads demon? Huh?" she asked, her eyes flickering from brown to red then back again.

Sam swallowed, his body shuddering involuntarily at the demon's touch. "Don't you know already?" he asked, his voice even despite the fear he felt.

The demon chuckled softly as she crouched down in front of Sam. "Could it be that brother of yours? You think his life is more important than yours, right? You want me to give him his life back in exchange for your soul? Am I anywhere close?" she asked, her lips curled in an evil smirk.

"Y-Yes…please, I have to save him," Sam whispered shakily.

"So, what if I don't want your soul, Sammy?" the demon asked as she let go of Sam's face, stood and took a step back and placed her hands on her hips.

"Wh-what? But…you're not going to help me? The soul of a hunter…that's gotta be worth a lot," Sam cried out as he took a step toward the demon.

"Now, I didn't say I wasn't going to help you. I just don't want your soul," the demon responded.

Sam stared at the demon in shock. If not his soul, what else could she possibly want? "What do you want then?" he asked nervously, though he was willing to do anything to have his brother back.

"You'd give anything, right…anything at all?" the demon queried.

Sam nodded. It didn't matter…Dean was worth anything she asked for and Sam would give it willingly. "Yes…anything," he finally answered.

The demon smiled as she once again approached the teen. "Very well. You have until morning with your brother before I collect," she said.

"Wait…"

"You changing your mind already? Chickening out?" the demon hissed as she stopped before the boy.

"No…I just want to make sure I get what I want too," Sam said defiantly.

The demon sighed and shook her head. "You want your brother alive," she said.

"Not just alive. I want him healed…whole. I want him to wake up like nothing ever happened to him," Sam demanded.

"Don't you think the doctors might be a bit…oh, I don't know…suspicious if his wounds went away, just like that?" the demon asked. "He's brain dead, right…a vegetable? A drooling mess?" she continued cruelly.

"Shut up!" Sam screamed.

"Calm down, Sammy. Just trying to make you see how…awkward it would be if he just woke up and all his boo boos were gone," the demon said.

"I don't care! They'll think it's a miracle or something," Sam replied angrily. "Just…heal him or I'll find another demon who will!"

The demon held her hands up in front of her and stepped toward the boy. "Okay…okay. He'll be fully healed. No ill effects from the attack," she said.

"Immediately," Sam added quickly.

The demon sighed then nodded her head. "Immediately. Now, can we finalize this?" she said.

"What do I have to give?" Sam asked reluctantly.

"Does it matter?"

"Just tell me."

"No…I think I'll just keep it a secret until tomorrow when I collect. You're brother's worth it, right?" the demon said.

Sam stared at the demon, but finally nodded. "Okay…fine. Only me, understand?" he said.

"What?" the demon asked, her brow creasing with confusion.

"You don't collect from anybody but me. You can't hurt anybody else…can't take anybody else's soul. No curses on my family or anybody I know or don't know," Sam said coolly.

"Sammy, I'm hurt that you'd think I would trick you like that. I don't want anything from anybody but you. A special boy like you?" the demon said as she cocked her head. "So, we have a deal?"

Sam dropped his eyes to the ground and took a deep breath to ease his racing heartbeat. Finally, he looked up and nodded. "Yes," he whispered.

The demon stepped forward and leaned over in front of Sam. She grabbed the back of his head, her fingers entwining painfully into his hair, and pulled him to her before pressing her lips roughly to his. Sam squirmed and fought to break her hold, but she was too strong for the small teen. Finally, the demon pulled away, an evil sneer on her lips.

"Sealed with a kiss," she said with a chuckle. She laughed as Sam wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and stared up at her with disgust, his eyes wide with anger.

"You have such pretty eyes, Sammy," she cooed as she reached out to touch his face.

Sam jerked away, his hand coming up to bat hers away. "Don't touch me!" he spat.

"So touchy," the demon said. "You better run along now, little boy. Don't want to waste any time you have with your brother. Tomorrow will be here before you know it," she continued.

Sam glared at the demon for a moment then turned, picked up his things and ran off down the road toward the hospital. If the demon hadn't been lying, then Dean should be awake and Sam couldn't run fast enough to get to him.

SN

John sat at his eldest son's bedside, the young man's hand held gently in his own. He couldn't believe this was happening. His boy was dying, was already dead except for the machines that kept him alive. John couldn't accept it…wouldn't accept it. There had to be something somebody could do. He couldn't lose his son. If he lost one, he'd lose the other as well. Sam would never survive his brother's death and that thought made John look up and over at where his son had been planted since day one. Only, Sam wasn't there. John frowned and glanced around the room, his stomach clenching as terrible thoughts ran through his head. He began to stand, but suddenly, the hand he held closed tightly around his own and his son's body began to writhe on the bed, horrible sounds coming from his throat. John jerked his attention back to Dean, his eyes widening with disbelief and shock. His supposed brain dead son's eyes were wide open and staring straight at him, full recognition showing in their panicked depths. It was then that Dean began to choke and John began to scream.

**That's chapter one. I hope you'll let me know what you think. I'll have the next chapter posted in a few days. Not sure about the third chapter as I will be traveling to Chicago on Thursday to attend Chicago Con...YIPPEE! I get to touch the Jared! One week from tomorrow I'll be standing next to him, smiling from ear to ear...or...passing out! LOL**

**Cindy**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, thank you all so much for the comments! I'm blown away. This chapter is shorter I'm afraid and we still don't get to what Sam's debt is...you'll just have to wait a bit longer. So...I'll let you get to it.**

**Cindy**

Sam ran at full speed down the hospital corridor, sliding around the corner when he came to the ICU ward. He pushed through the doors, his eyes widening at the scene outside Dean's room. He rushed toward the commotion, stopping short when Nicole, the nurse who came on in the evenings came out of his brother's room, her cheeks wet with tears. She saw Sam and her eyes widened.

"Sam! Where have you been? Its…oh my goodness, Sam…it's a miracle!" Nicole cried as she rushed to the boy and crouched down before him.

"Wh..?" Sam said, his eyes moving past the nurse to his brother's door.

Nicole took hold of Sam's arms and smiled, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "He's awake, Sam. Your brother's awake! He's…he's fine," she answered, but Sam had already pulled out of her grasp and was moving toward the room.

Sam pushed through the throng of nurses and other hospital staff and moved slowly toward Dean's bed, his head craning to get a glimpse of his brother. Dean's doctor was leant over the bed, obstructing Sam's view, but the boy smiled when he heard his brother's voice, hoarse as it may be.

"D'd…where's Sammy? Have they found him yet?"

Sam rushed to the bed, tears filling his eyes, and came up next to his father. "I…I'm here…" he whispered as he reached for Dean's hand.

Two sets of eyes spun his way, one dark and one green, but all Sam saw was his brother sitting up in bed, the hated tube no longer protruding from his mouth, his color the way it was before the nightmare had begun.

"Sammy…where?"

Sam pushed past his surprised father and stared up at his brother. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry I wasn't here," the teen said softly, his eyes pleading with his brother for forgiveness.

"'s okay, Sammy…you're here now," Dean said with a smile.

"I…I just needed some fresh air and I began to walk and then I was in the woods…"

"You were where!" John cried suddenly, Sam flinching when his shoulder was grabbed and he was spun around. "Sam…why would you go into the woods?"

"Dad…stop. He's back now and he's fine," Dean said, the young man hissing when his doctor, who hadn't stopped his examination when Sam had entered, pulled the last bit of tape that had been holding the bandage to Dean's torso away. "Easy there, doc!" he snapped.

The doctor looked up and shook his head. "It's not possible. This just isn't possible," he muttered before returning his gaze to Dean's chest.

Sam glanced over to where the doctor was looking and sucked in a short breath. Though he could see where the wound had been, the sickening rips were virtually gone, the only thing remaining to remind anybody there had been a wound at all being light red scratches. Sam smiled to himself then turned his attention back to his father and brother.

"Dad…I'm sorry…"

"We'll talk about this later, Sam. Right now we need to get all of these people out of your brother's room so he can rest," John said softly, though his eyes still conveyed that he was angry with his youngest son.

Sam nodded and turned back to Dean. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" he whispered as his fingers wrapped around the bed railing, his hazel eyes staring up into Dean's green ones.

"I'm fine, Sammy. I feel fine. Don't even know why I'm here actually," Dean replied as he glanced around the room at the dwindling crowd who had gathered, some whispering amongst themselves while others just stared in wonder and shock.

The doctor, Dr. Mason if Sam could remember correctly, straightened and gazed down at his young patient. "You were gravely injured young man. We didn't believe that you were going to survive," he said tersely. "You shouldn't be awake."

"Yeah, well sorry to disappoint you, doc, but here I am," Dean replied as he stretched out his arms and cocked his head.

"Yes, well…we'll be needing to run several tests in the morning," the doctor said.

"I don't think so. I'm getting out of this place. The sooner the better," Dean said, the young man glancing at his father to make sure John was on the same page as he. John nodded and Dean smiled, his eyes dropping to his little brothers face.

"I don't think that would be wise. You just came out of a weeklong coma, young man. You had a horrendous wound on your chest and abdomen and now, it's like you weren't even injured at all. We have to run tests…"

"Call it a miracle, doc. What else could it be? I'm leaving in the morning," Dean said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Young man…"

"I'm eighteen. You can't do anything that I don't consent to and you can't keep me here if I ask to leave," Dean snapped.

"But…what's happened here…we need to find answers," Dr. Mason argued.

"I'm not gonna be some guinea pig, doc. Sorry, but no way! Just get me the papers to sign…right now. I'm leaving tonight!" Dean demanded.

Dr. Mason looked up at John with bewilderment and shook his head. "Mr. Winchester…please talk some sense into your son. He can't just walk out of here after having just been at deaths door. He…"

"As he said, he is an adult and I happen to agree with him. There's no reason for him to stay. It's like you said earlier today…there's nothing more you can do for him," John said, his dark eyes moving from the doctor's shocked face to glance down to the upturned face of his youngest son.

"We at least need to do a scan to make sure there's no bleeding still in his brain," Dr. Mason said.

"Then get me a scan right now," Dean replied.

"I'm afraid it won't be that simple. We only have two technicians on at this time of day and…"

"If you want to do a scan, you do it now. Otherwise, I'm out of here," Dean said firmly.

Dr. Mason eyed his patient then glanced over to John. John shrugged his shoulders then wrapped an arm across Sam's chest and pulled him to his body. "We're all walking out of here tonight, Dr. Mason, so you might as well do as he asks," he said.

The doctor shook his head then walked toward the door, stopping next to Nicole and speaking in a low tone to her. The nurse nodded, looked up at the three Winchesters and smiled. She hurried from the room and closed the door behind her. The other hospital personnel had finally vacated the room so now all who remained were the Winchesters and Dr. Mason. The tall man walked back to the bed and sighed.

"The nurse is calling down to get you in for a scan. It may take a little while if they've already got patients," the doctor said.

"Good…thanks, doc. You can get my walking papers in order while we wait," Dean said with a grin.

The doctor shook his head and turned back toward the door. He mumbled to himself as he walked out of the room, the two older hunters breaking out into soft laughter once the door closed behind him. Sam was silent, the young teen's gaze never leaving his brother. Finally, when the laughter stopped, Dean looked down at his brother and frowned.

"Hey…why the long face, squirt? I'm back…I'm bad and I'm ready to roll!" the older brother quipped as he reached out to ruffle Sam's hair.

Sam closed his eyes at his brother's touch and sighed. He opened his eyes and met Dean's gaze. "I just…I was so scared. They said you were dying and I just couldn't…I...," he stammered, stopping when John took his shoulders and turned him around.

"Sam, what's going on?" John asked as he cupped Sam's chin and raised his face up.

Sam swallowed, the fear nearly overwhelming him. He didn't know what was going to happen in the morning and he knew he should tell his family about what he'd done, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. Maybe it was best that they didn't know, that whatever came tomorrow, it was just an unfortunate event and not related in any way to Dean's miraculous recovery.

"N-Nothing, Dad. I just…I had to get away for awhile…get some air. I just started walking and didn't realize where I was going. I'm sorry I wasn't here when Dean woke up…I should've been," Sam said. He turned to Dean and smiled sadly. "I'm really sorry, Dean," he said softly.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't get yourself all in bunch. You're here now and as soon as we can we're getting out of here," Dean said with a grin.

Sam nodded and smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Dean," he whispered.

John pulled Sam's face around again and stared down into his eyes. Something was off with his youngest son, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. Sam was hiding something, of that he was certain, but what it could be, John had no idea. Maybe something had happened to him on his walk that he didn't want them to know about. John's blood boiled just thinking about it. He wanted to get to the bottom of it, but now just wasn't the time. If he let his suspicions be known, Dean would go ballistic and they didn't need that kind of attention. Better to wait until they were safely away from the hospital and this town before John cornered Sam and made him talk.

"Just…don't do that again, Sammy. We were worried," the father finally said before letting loose of Sam's chin.

"Yes, sir," Sam said softly.

Sam shuffled around the bed and sat in the chair that he'd been occupying the entire week. He dropped his eyes to his lap, the boy unable to meet his family's eyes any longer. He hated lying to them, knew he should just tell them the truth, but at this point it would only cause problems. If he told them, John and Dean would probably go find the demon and force her to nullify the deal, but if that happened, then Dean would die and Sam just couldn't chance that. Better that they find out after the demon came and collected when nothing could be done to undo the deal. Sam still wasn't sure what the demon wanted and he certainly hadn't forgotten that she could still want his soul. This could be his last night on earth and he didn't want it to be marred with an argument about how stupid he was. Whether it was stupid to do or not, he knew he'd done the right thing. Dean was alive and healed and that was all that mattered.

John watched his youngest for several minutes as the boy fidgeted in his chair. He was more concerned now than he had been just a few moments ago. Sam wouldn't meet his eye, wouldn't look at either he or Dean. He was definitely hiding something, something he didn't want either of them to know about. Deciding that he needed to take the chance of Dean causing a scene, John opened his mouth to speak, but it was at that moment that the door to Dean's room opened and Dr. Mason walked in, his brow furrowed in thought. Sam looked up and watched the doctor as he strolled up to the bed, the boy thankful for the interruption. Dr. Mason stopped at the foot of Dean's bed and glanced at the young man.

"Well, it's going to be at least two hours before we're able to get you in to get a scan, but as soon as…"

"Just give me the papers to sign. I'm not waiting," Dean demanded.

"Mr. Winchester…while I can certainly understand you wanting to leave, you must understand that the injuries you suffered could have caused damage that we aren't seeing…"

"All I know is that I feel fine. No headache, no blurred vision, no dizziness. All I feel is stiff from being stuck in this bed. Just give me the papers to sign and I'll be out of your hair. You'll be off the hook if anything does happen," Dean said.

"I'm more concerned about your health than being off the hook. Surely you can wait another two hours? Please…if anything for mine and your family's peace of mind?" the doctor responded.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and glared defiantly at the doctor. Sam gazed between the two, the boy wanting to voice his knowledge of what a scan would show, but he couldn't do that without being found out so he kept his mouth shut and just waited for the fireworks to start. His father's voice cut in on his thoughts and he followed Dean's and the doctor's gazes to the frazzled man.

"Dean…let's just wait it out, okay? I'm sure Sammy would feel much better if you got checked out first," John said, hoping that using Sam as the trump card would persuade his son to stay. He knew something had happened to bring his son back to him and while he was certain any scan would be clear, he wanted to know for sure. He'd be looking into what could have caused the young man's 'miraculous' recovery, but for the moment, he needed to end the standoff between Dean and the doctor so they could begin to figure everything out.

Dean looked incredulously at his father then glanced over at Sam. The kid had lost weight by the looks of it, and he looked like he hadn't slept hardly at all. Dean sighed and collapsed against his pillows in defeat. If it meant giving his little brother peace of mind then he would endure another few hours just to wipe the look of worry off the kid's face. He sighed and glanced back at his father.

"Fine…I'll wait for the scan, but then, we're out of here," Dean said with irritation.

"Well, that's good to hear. I've already got you on the waiting list so as soon as they're ready, someone will come to take you to radiology," Dr. Mason said before turning and leaving the room.

Once the door had closed, John glanced back over at Sam and frowned. The kid looked miserable. After the week they'd had, John would have thought that Sam would be jumping up and down at having Dean awake, but he was anything but. John knew he was happy and relieved, but something was weighing him down and pretty heavily to be looking so…glum.

"Sammy…is there something you need to tell us?" John suddenly asked.

Dean looked at John then turned his gaze onto this brother. The teen squirmed in his chair as he stared up at his father with a look akin to fear in his eyes. "Uh…no, sir," he answered softly.

"You sure? You're not acting like I would think since finding Dean awake and well," John continued, ignoring the obvious lie. "Did something happen to you on your walk? Something you don't want us to know about?"

Dean's eyes widened at John's words and he began to scrutinize Sam more closely, looking for any telltale signs that someone had messed with his brother. Sam seemed fine physically, except for the dark bags under his eyes and the obvious weight loss, but emotionally he seemed out of sorts.

"Sammy?" Dean asked, his worry rocketing when Sam dropped his eyes to his lap.

"Nothing happened. I'm fine. I…I'm just tired and overwhelmed I guess. I thought you were gonna die," Sam said, his hazel eyes glancing up to look at his brother.

"Sam, if something happened, you need to tell us. We'll find out eventually anyway," John said, not believing his son's explanation for a moment.

Sam sighed and glanced up at his father. "I'm fine, Dad. Really," he replied. "I…I think I'm gonna take a nap, if that's okay," he continued as he pulled his legs up and curled into an uncomfortable position and closed his eyes.

"Yeah…you sleep, kiddo. I'll wake you when it's time to go," John said as he eyed his son warily.

"'kay," Sam whispered.

John and Dean watched Sam for several minutes until they were sure he was asleep. Finally, once Sam's breathing had evened out, Dean looked up at John and shook his head. "Something isn't right, Dad. Something did happen. I just can't figure out what it could be," he said.

"I know, but once we get out of this place, I'm gonna find out," John answered.

John settled into his chair to wait with Dean for the technicians to come and take the young man to radiology, but neither he nor Dean's minds were on the scan. Their thoughts were firmly on the youngest member of their family and what horrible secret he could be keeping from them.

**Well, John and Dean know something's up, but they just can't put their fingers on it quite yet. They'll figure it out...eventually. I hope you liked it...that it wasn't too boring. I'll have more up in the next few days...tomorrow maybe depending on how my day goes. Reviews are love.**

**Cindy**


	3. Chapter 3

**Completely blown away by the response to this. Holy cow! Thank you all for the wonderful comments...they mean the world to me. Sorry I couldn't respond to each of you, just don't have a lot of time. So...without further ado...on to the chapter.**

**Cindy**

**SNSNSNSNSN**

Sam lay in bed, covers pulled up around his chin, his eyes wide open as he listened to the sounds of his father and brother sleeping. Dean was next to him, lying on his stomach and snoring softly while John inhabited the other bed. Sam couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep even if he could. He didn't want to waste one moment of the time he had left before the demon came to collect on the deal sleeping. His family may be asleep, but he could still watch them, hear them, feel them. He was sure he wouldn't be able to do that for much longer. Dean mumbled something in his sleep before rolling onto his side, facing Sam. Sam turned his head and smiled. Drool glistened on Dean's chin and a large wet spot stained his pillow where his head had been resting. If Sam thought he'd be around, he'd already be coming up with ways to tease the older teen in the morning. Sam's smile disappeared suddenly at that thought. It was well after midnight, closing in on five a.m. as a matter of fact and Sam knew he didn't have much time left. At least the demon had kept her promise to give him until morning with his family.

Dean mumbled again then flipped back onto his stomach, his head turned away from Sam this time, no doubt to start a new wet spot on the other side of the pillow. Sam sighed and let his mind wander back to the previous night, to the car ride that took them from the hospital and the city where Dean almost died to this new town some sixty miles south. Dean had been cleared, just as Sam knew he would be and the family had wasted no time packing up and getting out of dodge. They'd headed south, through mountains mostly until they came to a small city and John decided they were far enough away that they could stop and get some much needed rest. Sam had remained silent for the most part, dodging his family's questions as best he could. Finally, they'd stopped asking and had settled for small talk, but Sam knew they were still concerned about him. He also knew they had good reason to be, they just didn't know why. He'd take his secret to the grave as he was quite sure there was nothing the demon could possibly want except for his life. He had nothing else to give, was nothing special in any way. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He couldn't figure out why the demon would even bother with someone as insignificant as he. The only thing he could think of was that it was a means to hurt his father and brother.

Sam began to drift, his eyes drooping as exhaustion pulled at him, his body demanding the sleep it needed. Sam shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs, but his eyes had other plans. They slowly closed, against their owner's wishes and soon Sam's breathing had evened out, the boy unable to fight against the darkness any longer.

"_Sam…."_

Sam jerked awake, his confused eyes searching the darkness of the motel room, the teen certain someone had said his name. He listened intently, but the only sound he heard was the snores coming from either side of him. He glanced over at the clock and groaned. He'd only been asleep for about fifteen minutes, but he supposed he could have dreamt the voice. He let his eyes close, no longer fighting sleep and began to drift again.

"_Sam…"_

Hazel eyes snapped open and flitted around the room. Sam slowly sat up, careful not to wake his brother. He knew he'd heard the voice that time. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he eased his legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge, listening for the voice to call again. He glanced at his father and brother, but neither seemed to have heard the voice, both men still soundly asleep.

"_Sam…"_

Sam took a deep breath. He knew whom the voice belonged to now. She had come for him, had come to collect. His time with his family was over. Sam stood and moved toward the door. The demon could not pass over the salt lines that had been laid at the door and windows, but Sam knew that wouldn't stop her from collecting. She'd wait until they exited the room and then she would take him. There was no way Sam would allow his family to witness his death, as he was sure that was what awaited him. He slowly walked toward the door, but he suddenly stopped. He couldn't just leave without a word. He couldn't allow them to awaken and find him gone, never to be seen again, without any kind of goodbye at all.

Sam walked back to the nightstand between the two beds and reached for the note pad and pen that sat beneath the lamp. He held the pen in shaky fingers as he contemplated what to write. Tears slid down his cheeks as finally, in the end he wrote the only words that really mattered. _'I love you and I'm sorry. Sam.'_

Sam set the pad where his family would see it when they awoke then moved toward the door. He didn't bother to change from his sleep clothes. There really was no reason to. He undid the latches and eased the door open, sighing with relief when it opened without a sound. He stopped and took one last glance over his shoulder at his father and brother before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

**SN **

Sam stepped away from the door, his eyes scanning the dimly lit parking lot, arms wrapped around himself as he shivered in the early morning chill. "You surprise me, Sam," the voice called from Sam's right, the teen jerking around toward the voice, his eyes narrowing when the demon stepped from the shadows of a stairwell and sauntered up to him.

"H-How so?" Sam asked as he took a small step back.

"You came out of your protected room. You're not hiding behind your father and brother, expecting them to protect you. I'm impressed," she answered as she stepped up to Sam and reached out to cup his cheek.

Sam jerked his head away and took another step back. "If I did that, Dean would die. Why would I go through the trouble in the first place?" he snapped, his eyes moving to the door that separated him from his family.

"True, but still…I thought you'd chicken out in the end. You really must think your brother is more important than you to accept a deal that you don't really know the outcome of," the demon said, her lips pulled into a sickening smile.

"He's more important than anything," Sam said, his eyes scanning the parking lot nervously.

The demon followed Sam's gaze then turned back to him and cocked her head, her black hair falling over one shoulder as she placed her hands on her hips. "What are you looking for?" she asked curiously.

Sam glared up at her, but kept silent. The demon sighed and relaxed her stance. "There aren't any hellhounds, Sam. I told you…I don't want your soul," she said.

"Then what do you want? Just…get it over with," Sam spat as he faced the demon head on.

"You are different aren't you, Sam? Not trying to get out of your end of the deal. That's never happened before. They always try to get out of paying up when the debt is due, but not you. You must love that brother of yours a great deal," the demon said, an almost sad tone to her voice.

"I do...now, can we get on with it. I don't want my family to wake up. I don't want them to know," Sam said.

"You didn't tell them. They have no idea what you did for Dean? Not a clue?" the demon asked.

"No, they don't," Sam said matter of factly. "And they're not going to know."

The demon nodded, the repulsive smile back on her face as she moved toward Sam. Sam stood his ground as she stepped in front of him and reached out with her hand. She placed her hand on his head and closed her eyes. Sam let out a strangled scream as agonizing pain ripped through his head, his legs buckling, sending him to his knees. The demon held her hand on Sam's head for several moments, smiling at the cries and whimpers coming from the writhing boy. Suddenly, she pulled her hand away and watched as Sam fell to his side on the sidewalk, his hands coming up to grip his head as he panted through the pain.

"Your debt is paid, Sam. Nice doing business with you," the demon said as she moved away from the teen, her eyes glancing toward his motel room when she sensed the occupants stirring within. She faded into the shadows and disappeared just at the time that Sam struggled to his knees.

Sam leaned over his knees, gasping as the pain continued to rip through his head. He shoved himself to his feet and staggered forward. He tripped and fell, his body slamming into something unyielding and he slid down along its surface until he was once again on his knees. His body dropped forward, his shoulder hitting the wall or door and keeping him from face planting on the concrete. He panted and gasped, and when he tried to open his eyes the pain doubled and he squeezed them tight to try and block out the agony.

Suddenly, the surface he was leant against gave way and he fell forward, but he could do nothing to stop his descent. He felt hands grab him and he heard panicked voices, but the darkness took him before he could even comprehend whose voices they were.

**SN**

Dean shot up in bed, his green eyes searching the room for the source of what had awakened him. He was still half asleep, but that didn't stop him from trying to find the threat before whatever it was could hurt his family. He glanced over at the other bed when he heard his father sit up.

"Dean…what was that?" John's gruff, sleep deepened voice asked.

"Ummm…don't know," Dean replied as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

John reached over and switched the bedside lamp on and it was at this point that both men realized they were missing one member of their family. Dean's eyes immediately went to the closed bathroom door, but John was nearer and was up and out of bed and moving to the room before Dean even made it around the bed.

"Sammy?" John called as he knocked on the door, his gaze moving down to note that the light in the room was not on.

There was no answer so John turned the knob and pushed the door open. He frowned when he found an empty room, no sign of his youngest son. He came out of the bathroom and shook his head as he met Dean's expectant gaze. A sudden loud bang on the outside of the room's door had both men lunging for their weapons. They reached the door at the same time and John motioned for Dean to stand just a ways back while he looked through the peephole, only to find nobody there. John nodded toward Dean as he reached for the doorknob, making sure Dean had his weapon ready before he opened the door. John flung the door open, but neither man was ready for what lay on the other side. Dean cried out as his baby brother's body pitched forward into the room, the young man tossing his gun as he lunged forward and grabbed the boy before he could hit the floor with his face.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, his hands pulling Sam up as John dropped to his knees beside his youngest son.

"Sam! Son…what happened!" John cried, but Sam's body suddenly went completely limp in his brother's arms, leaving both his father and brother to stare down in shock at the still boy. "Dean…we need to get him to the bed," John finally said after the initial shock wore off.

Dean glanced up at John and nodded, his eyes wide and dazed. He gently rolled Sam over, his arm supporting Sam across his shoulders. John moved closer and eased his arms underneath Sam's knees and back then carefully lifted him from Dean's arms. Dean began to protest, but John put a stop to that with just a look. John stood and pulled his son up with him, the boy's arms and legs dangling limply, his head falling back over John's arm.

"Shut the door, Dean," John instructed softly as he carried his precious burden to the bed and gently laid him down.

Dean rushed to the other side of the bed and scrambled up next to his brother. He gently patted Sam's face before brushing sweat soaked bangs from the unconscious boy's eyes. "Sammy…wake up. Hey…you need to wake up for me," Dean pleaded, his terrified eyes glancing up at John as he hurried from the bathroom with a wet washcloth.

John sat on the edge of the bed and placed the cool cloth on Sam's forehead then began to carefully inspect the boy's body for injury.

"Dad…what's wrong with him?" Dean asked with a shaky voice.

John looked up and shook his head. "I don't know. What the hell was he doing outside?" he answered as he went back to his examination.

Dean dropped his eyes to Sam's face then took the boy's hand. "He's freezing," he whispered as he began to rub the cold hand between his own.

Sam let out a groan and both men stopped what they were doing to see if he would wake up. Another groan had John reaching up to cup his cheek, his dark eyes watching intently as Sam's eyelids began to flutter. "That's it son…wake up for us," he coaxed softly.

"Uhnnnn…mmmm…" Sam moaned, his head rolling on the pillow, forehead scrunched in pain.

"Sam…come on. You're scaring us here," Dean said as he leaned in closer to his brother.

Sam turned his head toward his brother's voice and slowly opened his eyes. "Wha..?" he rasped as he sought his brother's face.

Dean and John gasped upon seeing Sam open his eyes, Dean flinching back in horror and losing contact with Sam's hand. Both men had expected to see soft hazel eyes peering out from beneath the washcloth, but what they did see chilled them to their very bones. Instead of warm hazel, all they saw were the iris's barely visible beneath a film of milky white. They looked at each other before Sam's scared voice pulled their attention back to him.

"Who's there? What…what's goin' on?"

"I'm here, Sammy…I'm right here," Dean said as he quickly took his brother's hand again.

"Wh-Who are you? I can't see you! Why is it so dark?" Sam cried, his voice taking on a panicked edge as he yanked his hand from Dean's grasp.

Dean looked up with confusion at his father after hearing Sam's words. John shook his head then looked back down at his agitated son.

"Sam…you need to calm down. It looks as though something has uh…has…Sammy, it isn't dark in here. It's your eyes," John said, the man trying to keep his own voice calm though he was anything but.

Sam jerked his head toward the other voice, his breathing near hyperventilating. "Who are you! What…" Sam started, but his mouth slammed shut as another stab of pain sliced through his head.

"Sam? What's wrong…are you in pain?" John queried, his stomach knotting as he gazed into his son's white, sightless eyes.

"M-my head hurts, but…"

"Dad…we need to get him to a hospital," Dean said urgently.

"No! No hospital!" Sam cried, his eyes moving in the direction where Dean sat beside him.

"Sam, your brother's right. We need to find out what's going on. We need to find out why you can't see," John said as he pushed to his feet.

Sam turned his head and took a deep breath. "My brother? Who…I don't understand. Who are you people?" he whispered as blood tinged tears leaked from his damaged eyes.

Dean's eyes widened and he reached down with shaky hands and brushed at the tears with his fingers. Sam didn't know who they were and he was crying tears of blood? What the hell was going on? "Dad?" he whispered, his voice filled with fear.

John swallowed as he glanced at Dean then looked back down at his son. "Sam…I'm your father. This is your brother, Dean. You don't remember us?" he asked urgently.

"I…I don't know...I don't have a brother…or a father. M-My name is Sam?" Sam replied.

John turned his head away as his emotions tried to get the better of him. It was then that he spied the note pad on the nightstand. He reached over and picked it up then read what was written there. He sucked in a harsh breath and stared down at his son.

"Dad…what is it?" Dean asked, the look his father gave him when he glanced up at him nearly taking his breath away.

John held the note pad out for Dean to read, the young man's eyes widening as realization dawned on him. "No…Sammy…no," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears that he didn't even try to stop from falling.

"What? What's happening? Who are you and why can't I remember?" Sam whispered, the silence that suddenly hung in the air scaring him even more than he was already.

John dropped the note pad to the bed and turned sad eyes onto his son. "What the hell did you do, Sammy? What the hell did you do?"

**SNSNSNSNSNSN**

**So? I'm so mean...I know. I don't know if I'll have more posted before I go to Chicago, but I am taking my computer with me so I should be able to get another chapter posted while there. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and will let me know. Thanks guys.**

**Cindy **


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm back! Thank you for being so patient with me. I really wanted to post another chapter and I also wanted to respond to each of your comments about ch. 3, but was running from morning until...early next morning all weekend. I'm sitting in the airport in Minneapolis right now on a 3 1/2 hour layover so I thought it would be a good time to post the next chapter. First, I thought you all might want to know that the convention was out of this world fun! The guys are so nice...didn't really get to see Jensen all that much, but had two picture ops with Jared (one shared with Misha) and then autographs. Jared is an absolutely, wonderfully nice guy. So down to earth and so funny! And let me tell you, I'm not quite sure how this is possible, but the guy is 20 times more gorgeous in person. Stunning is the word I would use. TV and photos do not do his eyes justice...they are incredible. I had a quick pic with Jensen so didn't get much of a chance to really get to look at him, but he's more slender than he looks on the show. He's always under his shirts and jacket so to see him in a nice fitted shirt and jeans you see how slender he really is. He was nice and polite. Misha was cute and funny. Met Fredric Lehne (YED), the Ghostfacers, Matt Cohen (young John Winchester), Richard Speight (the Trickster), Aldis Hodge (Jake Talley) and the guy who played Crowley, though his name escapes me at the moment. All really nice and interesting. Okay, so that's the rundown of the convention. Now, I'll let you get to the story. **

**Cindy**

"Sammy…what did you do?"

Sam turned toward John's voice, the boy hissing as more pain struck. "Uhnnnn…hurts…"

John reached down and placed his hand on Sam's forehead. Sam flinched slightly, but the touch of the man who claimed to be his father oddly brought him comfort so he stilled and leaned into the touch. John smiled softly then looked up at Dean. "Son, get the first aid kit," he instructed before returning his gaze to his youngest. "Sam…we're gonna give you something for the pain. It'll help you sleep," he said.

"No…don't want nothin'! Don't wanna sleep!" Sam cried as he pulled away from John's touch and started to scramble across the bed.

"It's okay…we'll take care of you. Nothing's gonna hurt you," John cooed as he reached out to grab Sam's arms to keep the boy from falling off the bed.

"I don't even know you! You could be the ones who did this to me!" Sam screamed before suddenly reaching up and grabbing his head. He curled into a tight ball, agonized mewling noises coming from his throat, and rocked as the pain sliced through him like a razor sharp blade.

"Sam! God…Dad, what…" Dean cried as he jumped back onto the bed and took Sam into his arms.

"No…no, please…please don' hurt me," Sam whispered tearfully.

"We'll never hurt you, Sammy…never," Dean whispered back, his lips right next to Sam's ear.

John watched his sons, tears welling in his eyes as he pulled a syringe and vial from the extensive first aid kit. He'd never get his baby to take a pill which left him with only one option. He hated the thought of doing it, but Sam was in pain and terrified. He needed relief and he needed sleep. John met Dean's eyes as the young man glanced up at him.

"Dad?" Dean queried softly.

"Morphine…he needs it, Dean," John answered as he pushed the needle into a writhing Sam's vein and pressed in the plunger.

"No…don' wanna…don'…pl's…" Sam slurred as the drug took immediate effect.

Dean felt Sam relax in his arms, the boy still murmuring as the drug flowed through his system. Dean gently uncurled his brother's body, cradling the boy in his arms as he watched the horrible white eyes slowly blink shut. When he was sure Sam was completely out, he eased the teen down onto the bed and pulled the covers up over his chest. He brushed the sweaty hair from Sam's face then turned to his father. John watched his baby for a few moments then brushed his hand over his face before looking up to meet Dean's gaze.

"Dean…I…"

"He made a deal, didn't he?" Dean interrupted as he pushed up from the bed.

John watched his son as the young man began to pace then glanced back down at Sam. He shook his head before he too stood. "Dean…I don't know. I mean, how would he know about that sort of thing? We've kept him away from things as much as we could," John said tiredly.

"All those books he reads at Bobby's I guess. He did all that research for that demon hunt we did a few months back. He must have come across something about demon deals," Dean replied as he paced to the far wall. "Damn it!" he shouted, his fist suddenly hitting the wall and leaving a dent in the drywall.

John rushed to his son's side and took hold of his arm then turned him around. "Dean…stop! That's not going to solve anything!" he snapped as he took Dean's hand and inspected the already bruising knuckles.

Dean pulled his hand free and stepped away from his father. He glanced over at the bed and it's occupant before dropping his eyes to the floor. "I'm so mad at him, Dad! How could he have done this?" he cried.

John shook his head and reached out to lift Dean's head up so he could see his face. "Maybe it isn't a deal, Dean. I've never heard of a crossroads demon taking someone's sight and memories. They bargain for souls. I just don't know what we're dealing with here," he said.

"You read the note, Dad! He knew something was gonna happen and he went outside! I know it! The stupid little idiot made a deal!" Dean snapped.

"If he did, he did it for you, Dean. To save your life," John said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

"For what! So he couldn't see me or remember me anymore? What's the point?" Dean cried as he suddenly rushed to the bed and sat down next to his brother. "Why'd you do it, Sammy? Why?" he whispered.

"Dean…he was torn up…never left your side except to use the bathroom. I…I think he blamed himself for what happened to you…and I…well, I wasn't any help at all," John admitted softly as he approached the bed and glanced down at his eldest son.

Dean looked up and softly shook his head. "Why would he blame himself? It wasn't his fault…not even close. He shouldn't have even been there in the first place," he said sadly.

"I don't know. I guess because the harpy was coming for him and you put yourself between him and it. Maybe he thought it should have been him and not you," John guessed, though he was pretty sure he'd hit the nail on head.

"Maybe? Didn't he say anything? Didn't you ask him?" Dean questioned, his eyes narrowing on his father as he stood up from the bed.

"I…I was so involved with saving you and getting you to the hospital and then…then afterwards when they put you on life support, I just…I didn't really notice anything but you," John admitted, his head dropping in shame at how he'd neglected his youngest son when the boy had needed him most.

"So…he was basically left alone to deal with what had happened?" Dean asked angrily, his green eyes flashing as he watched his father. "Did you even check to see if he'd been injured? Did you care?"

John looked up, his dark eyes filled with hurt at hearing Dean's words. "I checked him…when we were waiting for word on your condition. He wasn't hurt. I killed the thing, Dean. After…after it hurt you, it tried to get to Sammy again, but I didn't let it get one step closer," he finally said.

"What about afterwards? When I was in the ICU? You didn't talk to him…comfort him?" Dean asked wearily.

John looked away, his eyes filling as memories of the days sitting next to Dean's deathbed filled his head. He'd been too grief stricken to offer any comfort to his youngest son. "No. I…I was too devastated. He's the one who offered me comfort and I wouldn't take it. Didn't even acknowledge it," John said, his eyes widening as a memory suddenly came to him.

Dean cocked his head and stared at his father curiously. "What?" he asked.

"He tried to tell me and I wouldn't listen," John said almost to himself.

"Tried to tell you what, Dad?" Dean queried, an uneasy feeling settling over him.

"It…it was just a few hours after they told us they couldn't do anything more for you…that you would never wake up. I just shut down, I guess. I remember Sam saying something to me, but I don't remember what then I heard him say…he said he was going to fix it for me," John replied, his dark eyes moving to gaze upon his youngest son.

"And you just let him go? How could you do that!" Dean snapped.

"It didn't even register at the time, Dean. Not until now," John answered.

"You could have stopped him. You could have saved him from this! If you'd have paid more attention to him, he wouldn't be in this mess!" Dean hissed, the young man keeping his voice low so as not to waken his brother.

"And then I'd only have one son! Dean, as upset as I am about this, I can't say that I'm sorry he did it…"

"Don't, Dad…don't you dare justify what he did!" Dean hissed.

John sighed and moved toward his son. He reached out and grasped his arm, making Dean look at him. "I have to, Dean. You would have died. Sammy saved you. How can I not be happy about that?"

"At what cost? So, you have us both, but you don't really have him, now do you?" Dean asked brokenly.

"Dean…we'll figure this out," John replied softly.

"How? We don't even know what kind of deal he made…and he doesn't know either because he can't remember his own name! He should have left it alone! He should have let me die!" Dean cried.

John jerked Dean's arm and gave the young man a violent shake. He pulled Dean toward him, anger burning deep within the depths of his dark eyes. "Don't you ever say that," he hissed as he gave his son another shake. "And don't you even try to say that you wouldn't have done the same thing if the roles had been reversed…if it had been Sam lying in that hospital bed!"

Dean pulled his arm out of John's grip and stepped back. He rubbed at his arm as he watched his father warily. "It's not the same. He's my little brother…it's my job to save him," he said, his green eyes brimming as he considered what he would have felt like if he'd been told Sam was dying.

"And you don't think Sam thinks the same thing about you?" John asked softly.

Dean swallowed and glanced over at Sam. He turned back to John and sighed. "That's not his job. He's not supposed to put himself in harm's way for us…for me," Dean answered.

"Well, I don't think he got that memo, Dean," John said as he made his way over to his bed and sat down on the edge, his dark eyes moving to Sam's lax face. "Whether you like it or not, your brother is gonna do everything in his power to protect us, just like we do for him. It's in his blood, Dean…he is a Winchester after all."

Dean snorted a humorless chuckle and moved around he and Sam's bed then sat down next to his brother, across from John. He glanced up at his father and slowly shook his head. "It scares me, Dad. He's so young and yeah, he's starting to sprout up now, but he's still so small," he said softly. He looked over his shoulder at Sam and sighed. "I guess now I don't really need to worry about it though, huh?"

"How so?" John asked.

"Well, he doesn't know us now. He thinks we're the ones who hurt him. He won't be running in front of any bus for us, that's for sure," Dean replied sadly.

John reached across the space between the beds and squeezed Dean's knee. "We'll figure out what to do to get him back, Dean. Bobby should be able to help us," he said, though in his own mind he didn't know if Bobby could help at all.

"How, Dad? We don't even know what kind of deal the kid made and if he made it with a demon or what. He's the only one who knows and he doesn't remember," Dean said.

"We'll fix this. I'll give Bobby a call in a few minutes. In the meantime, I want you to get back to bed and get some more sleep," John said in reply.

Dean shook his head then glanced over at Sam. "I'm not tired, Dad. Besides, I gotta keep an eye on Sam," he said.

"I can watch over Sam…you just came out of a weeklong coma," John remarked as he stood from his bed and headed for his jacket.

"Yeah, and thanks to Sam, I feel no ill effects from it. You are the one who needs sleep, not me," Dean answered back. Dean stood and stretched his arms up over his head then glanced back at his father. "You call Bobby and then get some sleep. I'll watch Sam then when you wake up one of us can go grab some breakfast…or lunch," he suggested.

John opened his mouth to protest, but stopped himself. Dean was right, he was bone tired and if he was to be at his best to help Sam, he needed to rest. He nodded then reached into the pocket of his jacket and retrieved his cell phone. He made his way to the door of the room and silently slipped outside, the phone already pressed against his ear as he waited for the ringing line to be answered.

Dean waited until the door had shut behind his father before he sat back on the bed facing Sam. He watched his brother for several minutes then brushed his hand over his face and through his sleep mussed hair. He blew out a shaky breath and reached for Sam's hand.

"I'm so mad at you, Sammy," Dean said thickly as he enveloped Sam's cold hand in his. "Why'd you do it, huh? I'm so gonna kick your ass if we ever get you back," he continued, and then the tears began to fall.

**Sorry, I maybe should have put in a tissue alert on that one. Maybe a little one? Anyway, please let me know what you think and thank you all so much for reading.**

**Cindy**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, here we are again. Once again...thank you all for the wonderful comments. I'm so sorry I don't have time to respond to each comment. Life is crazy right now. Just know that I appreciate each and every one of them more than you know. Anyway...on with the story.**

**Cindy**

**SNSNSN**

Dean glanced up as the door to the motel room opened and John stepped inside. "Bobby have anything for us?" he asked expectantly.

John shook his head and moved around his bed before dropping down on the edge and brushing a frustrated hand through his hair. "He said he'd do some research…check around, but he's never heard of a demon making a deal for anything but a soul either. He's not sure it is a demon," the frazzled hunter replied as he dropped his cell phone on the nightstand.

"So, what else could it be? I mean…we have to know if we're going to help Sammy," Dean asked quietly, the young man not wanting to awaken his brother.

"I don't know, Dean. A wish granter of some sort?" John answered.

"What…like a genie?" Dean snorted in disbelief.

"The only genie per say that I know of is a djinn, and this isn't how they operate. Everything in me tells me it's a demon, but I just don't know for sure," John admitted tiredly as his gaze moved to his youngest son.

"So what do we do? Try to summon the demon and get Sam's vision and memories back?" Dean asked as he sat up straighter next to his brother.

"If we do that, it could kill you," John answered shakily.

"Dad…I…"

"Don't even say it, Dean. It would kill your brother if you died. It would kill me. I have both of my sons right now. I'm thinking maybe we should leave it alone," John interrupted.

"What? Leave Sammy like that? No sight…no memories?" Dean asked incredulously. "And what about the pain, Dad? What if part of the deal is the pain too? You really want him living with that kind of pain for the rest of his life? 'cause I don't, Dad. I can't bear to see him like this," Dean cried, his hand moving to rest upon Sam's blanket covered chest.

John sighed and dropped his eyes to the floor. "I don't know what to do, Dean. If we try to summon the demon, if it is a demon, and try to null the deal, then I could lose you. Sammy could lose you. But, you're right…I don't think I can bear to see Sam like this…especially if the pain is part of it," John answered, the broken tone in his voice bringing Dean to the verge of tears.

"Dad…maybe Bobby will find something. If anyone can, he can. There's got to be someone out there who's heard of something like this," Dean offered, hoping to ease both he and his father's fears.

John looked up and gave his eldest son an appreciative smile. "Yeah…Bobby'll find something. I'm sure of it," he said gruffly.

Dean nodded and watched as his father's mouth opened into a wide yawn. "Dad…get some sleep. I'll keep an eye on Sam," he said as he reached for the television remote, turning the box on and the volume down.

John nodded then stood and leaned over his baby boy. "We're gonna fix this, Sammy," he whispered before planting a tender kiss on Sam's cool forehead.

John glanced up at Dean and shrugged, his lips curled into a crooked grin when he saw the surprised look on Dean's face. "What?" he questioned as he dropped back onto his bed and swung his bare feet up under the covers.

"Dude, you just kissed Sam in full view," Dean answered with a chuckle.

"So? Not like I've never kissed you boys before," John muttered, his head dropping to his pillow.

"Uh…not since Sammy was about eight or so," Dean replied as he cocked his head and grinned at his father.

"Shut up and let me sleep," John grumbled. "You should get some more sleep yourself."

"I'm not tired. I'll just watch the boob tube while you two snooze. Don't want Sammy waking up and sneaking out again," Dean answered, his voice dropping guiltily at his last sentence.

John opened his eyes and stared at his son. "Dean…this isn't your fault. None of it is. I didn't wake up either. Besides, we both know that if Sam did make a demon deal, we wouldn't have been able to stop it from collecting," he said.

"We could have kept him locked in this room until we figured out how to fix this," Dean offered, his green eyes glancing over at his brother's face.

"Well, that all rests upon us knowing about it, which we didn't. Sam wouldn't have told us and as soon as we left the room the demon would have struck," John replied.

"If I…"

"No, Dean. No more ifs, okay? It's not your fault. Blaming yourself, or anybody else for that matter isn't gonna fix anything," John said gruffly.

Dean watched his father for a few moments then reluctantly nodded. "Yeah…okay. You're right," he replied.

John nodded then closed his eyes again. It didn't take long before he was softly snoring, leaving Dean to his own thoughts. Dean sighed as he leaned back against the headboard of his and Sam's bed. Finally, he let his eyes wander to the television, but none of the channels offered anything interesting enough to take his mind off of his little brother and the situation they found themselves in.

**SNSNSNSNSNSN**

John awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing, the sleepy man glancing over to the other bed and smiling as he reached for his phone. Sam was still out, as was Dean. The older brother was curled around his younger brother while Sam had managed to press himself, face first, into the 'cubby' Dean's curled body had created. John chuckled then flipped open his phone before placing it to his ear.

"Bobby? You got something for me?" John started, the man knowing without looking at the caller ID that it was his friend on the other end of the line.

There was a long sigh that knotted John's stomach before Bobby's gruff voice sounded through the phone. "Johnny, I'm sorry. I called everybody I knew…went through dozens of books and notes. I have no idea what we're dealing with here. My best guess is it's a demon, but why it wouldn't take Sam's soul is beyond me," the older man said apologetically.

John sat up and glanced once more over to his sons, his dark eyes meeting those of his now awake eldest son. He shook his head as he turned his attention back to the phone call. "I don't get it, Bobby. If it is a demon…I just don't get it," he said.

"There's only one thing that someone suggested, but I don't know if you want to hear it," Bobby offered hesitantly.

John swallowed and gazed at Dean. "Tell me, Bobby. If it'll help Sammy, you have to tell me," he replied nervously.

"Well, I don' t know if it'll help the little idjit or not, but…uh…Riley said that it's possible that if it was a demon, maybe there was a reason why the demon _couldn't _take Sam's soul," Bobby said.

"Couldn't? But…wait…Riley? Bobby, you didn't tell him…anyone…that it was Sammy did you?" John questioned, his dark eyes widening in sudden fear.

"No! I'm not stupid! I told him…all of them…that I was working on a case for someone. I didn't tell them who," Bobby answered, the older man clearly offended that John would think he would put the youngest Winchester in possible danger.

"Okay…okay, I'm sorry. I just don't need anything else to happen right now," John placated tiredly.

"I understand, but you know that I would never put that boy in harm's way, Johnny. I'd just soon cut off my own arm than do that," Bobby said.

"I know, Bobby. So…uh…what do you mean that the demon couldn't take Sam's soul?" John asked, afraid of the answer he may receive.

"I don't know. It was just an idea Riley had. He said it's possible that the soul was already spoken for, but how could that be? This is Sam we're talking about here," Bobby replied.

John felt his heart begin to race at Bobby's words. Could it be true? Could Sam's soul be in danger? And if so, how…and why? John's mind wandered back to that fateful night so long ago. The night he lost his wife and nearly lost his baby boy. It had happened in Sam's nursery. Could whatever had killed Mary been there for Sam? If so, for what purpose? Why Sam? There were so many questions and suddenly, it became very important that John find answers to those questions.

"Johnny!" Bobby's voice hollered through the phone line, breaking John from his thoughts to focus back on the conversation at hand.

"What? Sorry, Bobby…I was just thinking," John offered as he glanced over to Dean's confused face.

"Well, that's a scary thought," Bobby muttered before continuing. "I was saying that Riley couldn't possibly be right. There's no way."

"Bobby…the night Mary died…um…it…it was Sammy's nursery," John started, his eyes locking with Dean's.

"Yeah? What're you getting at?" Bobby asked carefully.

John took a deep breath then let it out slowly as he attempted to slow his racing heart. Dean watched him closely, his hand resting protectively on Sam's chest. "What if…what if whatever took my Mary from me was…was there for Sam? What if Mary died because she walked in on something she wasn't supposed to see?" he finally asked, the man biting his lip when Dean's eyes widened in fear.

"John, if that's the case, then it's possible that's why Sam's soul wasn't the debt to be paid because…because…ah geez…Johnny, I just don't know. What could a demon possibly want with Sam?" Bobby said in a shaky voice.

"I don't know, but if it is the case, it's not getting him. I'll die before I let that happen," John hissed, his dark eyes falling to Sam's lax face.

"I know you will. Look, I'll keep digging…see if I can come up with some other explanation. We'll figure this out, Johnny…okay?" Bobby said.

"Yeah…okay. Thanks, Bobby," John said before flipping his phone shut and dropping it on the nightstand.

"Dad? What was all of that?" Dean asked, the young man swallowing nervously when John lifted his eyes to meet his.

John sighed as he gazed at his eldest son. He didn't want to burden Dean with the information Bobby had given him, but the young man had heard half of the conversation already so it would be cruel to keep Bobby's half from him. Finally, he spoke. "Dean, Bobby couldn't really find anything, but he did some calling around and Riley suggested that maybe Sam's soul had already been claimed by something else and that's why his sight and memories were taken."

"So, that's why you were talking about Mom? You think whatever killed her could have been there for Sam. You…wait…do you think it was a demon that killed Mom and that demon has claimed Sam's soul? Why? That doesn't make any sense," Dean said, the young man instinctively scooting impossibly closer to his still sleeping brother, green eyes moving to the door before returning to his father.

"I don't know, Dean. It's all we really have to go on right now though. Bobby's gonna do some more checking around, but I think he's at a loss too," John answered.

A soft moan from Sam brought both Winchester's attention to the suddenly stirring boy between them. Dean scooted back, not wanting to frighten his brother when he awoke. Slowly, Sam's eyes blinked open and both men were disappointed to see that nothing had changed while Sam had slept. The milky white eyes were still there, the beautiful hazel buried beneath. Sam rolled his head on his pillow before lifting his hand up to his face, his brows furrowing as he waved the hand in front of his eyes.

"Still blind," he whispered as he dropped his hand to his stomach. "You guys there?" he asked softly, his head rolling toward Dean.

"Uh…yeah…we're here. How's your head?" Dean replied as he glanced up at his father for a moment before returning his gaze to Sam.

Sam hitched himself up on the bed and with a little help from Dean, was comfortably resting against the headboard. "Uh…better," he replied. "So…are you really my father and brother? Did you do this to me?" he asked nervously as he fiddled with the blanket that covered his legs.

John pulled himself from his bed only to sit on the edge of Sam and Dean's, his hand easing down to rest on Sam's knee. Sam flinched slightly, but settled as John began to speak. "Yes…we're your family, Sam. And no…we didn't do this to you," he said.

Sam looked in his direction, his eyes staring out somewhere over John's shoulder. "Then…what happened? Why can't I see? Why can't I remember you?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"We don't know, Sammy. We're trying to figure that out," Dean said as he positioned himself so he was facing Sam.

Sam turned to Dean and smiled sadly. "I had a dream," he whispered.

Dean looked up at John then turned back to Sam. "What about?" he asked softly.

"I…I think it was us, but…I don't know," Sam answered as he reached up and ran his hand through his messy hair. "Uh…yeah…probably was," he murmured.

John gave Sam's knee a gentle squeeze as he leaned forward slightly. "What was your dream about, Sammy?" he asked.

"There was a man..tall, dark hair and eyes…and a younger man with short hair, leather coat. And then there was a kid. He was small…much smaller than the other two. I guess maybe that was me?" he replied before suddenly reaching his hand up to Dean's face.

Dean's instinct was to pull back, but he remained perfectly still as Sam turned and lifted his other hand. Sam explored Dean's face…his eyes, nose, cheeks…before one hand slowly moved down to his chest, shaky fingers searching for and finding the amulet that always hung around the older brothers neck. Sam fingered the amulet before finally letting it loose and leaning back against the headboard.

"You're my brother," he simply said.

"Yes," Dean answered, eyes glistening.

Sam nodded and turned toward John. He reached up and felt the older man's face and hair before dropping his hand to his lap. "And…you're my dad," he whispered.

"Yeah…I am. Sam, we're…"

"What happened to me? There…there was this…thing…in my dream. It was a woman, but she had feathers and talons and…and she was coming after me, but…but you stopped her," Sam interrupted, his head turning toward Dean.

John looked up at Dean and shook his head then gave Sam's knee another squeeze. "We don't know what happened, but we're going to find out and we're going to fix this," he said firmly.

Sam swallowed as he turned his head toward John. "How are you going to fix this? If you don't know what happened, how can you fix it?" he asked, his voice trembling as fear overcame him.

"We've got someone working on that right now. If anyone can find an answer, he can," Dean answered.

Sam nodded as he bit at his bottom lip. John cocked his head as he stared at his youngest son. "Sam? What is it? What's wrong?" he asked in a worried voice.

"Uh…there…there was another woman…later, in my dream," Sam answered warily.

"Yeah…what did she look like?" John asked.

"She was beautiful. She had long, black hair, but…but…" Sam stammered.

"But?" Dean prodded softly.

"But…she had red eyes," Sam whispered in reply.

Dean flinched, his green eyes widening as he stared up at his father. John swallowed as he attempted to calm his frantically beating heart. Finally, his breathing under control, he spoke. "Sam…did she say anything? Did you say anything?"

Sam nodded, his face twisted in confusion. "Yeah, but I don't understand it. I mean…it's just a dream, but it seemed so real," Sam said.

"What did you say? What did she say?" John prodded, the man knowing this could be the answer they were looking for.

"Um…I…I told her I wanted to make a deal. I told her Dean was dying and that I wanted her to save him," Sam answered, his head turning in Dean's direction as he said his brother's name.

"S-So…then what?" Dean asked fearfully.

"I don't know…it's all so…weird. She said she'd make the deal, but that she didn't want my soul? I don't understand. She said there was something else she wanted and that she'd collect in the morning and then…then she kissed me," Sam replied, his cheeks flushing as he dropped his sightless eyes to his lap.

John and Dean looked at each other with wide, terrified eyes then both turned their attention to Sam. Dean scooted up the bed and gently pushed his arm behind his brother's back. Sam tensed for a moment before he relaxed and allowed Dean to pull him to his side. "It's okay, Sammy. We're going to fix this," Dean whispered.

"It wasn't real…it couldn't have been real, but…but it felt real," Sam murmured, his head slowly lowering to rest on Dean's shoulder. "It all felt so real."

"Dreams can be like that sometimes, Sam. They can be very frightening," John said as he stood from the bed and gazed down at his sons. "I think we'll all feel better if we get some food in our stomachs. I'm going to run and grab us some lunch. You two stay here…I'll be right back," he continued as he began to shed his sleep clothes.

John was dressed in no time and was heading for the door when Sam softly called out to him, his words stopping John dead in his tracks.

"D-Dad? Where's my mom?"

**SNSNSNSNSNSN**

**That's it for now. I hope you all liked it. Please let me know.**

**Cindy**


	6. Chapter 6

**Once again, thank you all for reading and sending me such lovely comments. I won't waste any more of your time...I'll just let you get to the story.**

**Cindy**

****

_"D-Dad? Where's my mom?"_

John sucked in a nervous breath and turned back toward his sons. Dean's eyes were wide as he stared at his father, his arm tightening around Sam's back. "Sam…your mom…she's…" John started, his voice shaking with emotion.

Sam dropped his sightless eyes to his lap and sighed. "She's gone, isn't she?" he whispered, his lower lip quivering slightly as he leaned into his brother.

John walked back to the bed and sat down. He reached for Sam's face and gently lifted it. "Yes…she died when you were just a baby," he answered softly.

"So…I never knew her?" Sam asked timidly.

Dean stared at his father then turned to his brother. "Sammy…you were six months old, but you know her…you know that she was beautiful and that she loved to sing to you and hold you and…and that she loved you very much," he said as he hugged the boy to his side.

Sam turned his head up toward his brother's face, his strange, white eyes filling with tears. "She d-did?" he whispered.

"More than anything, kiddo," John answered softly.

Sam smiled sadly and pulled away from his brother. He leaned back against the headboard and dropped his chin to his chest.

"Sammy? What's wrong?" Dean asked as he watched his brother with concern.

"N-Nothing…I just…I wish I could remember," Sam softly answered. "I wish I could remember you…I wish I could remember her."

"You will, son…I promise," John said, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze Sam's knee.

Sam lifted his head and stared sightlessly toward his father. "How? You don't know why I'm like this. You don't know why I'm blind and you don't know why I can't remember! How can you promise something like that!" the boy suddenly cried out as tears sprang to his eyes and slowly trailed down his red cheeks.

John swallowed and blinked back against the sting in his eyes as he scooted closer to his baby's side. He gave Sam's knee another squeeze and cleared his tightening throat. "Sam…we're doing everything we can to figure this out. We will figure it out and you will see again. You will get your memory back. I'll never give up, son," he said, the man unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice.

Sam lifted a shaky hand to his face and hastily brushed the tears from his cheeks. He shut his eyes and sighed. "I believe you…I don't know why, but I do. I just…I want you to know that if you can't fix this, it's okay," he whispered as he sagged further against the headboard.

Dean glanced at his father and shook his head before turning back to Sam. "Sammy…we are going to fix this. Bobby is working on it from his end and Dad and I will be working it from here. You just need to rest and let us handle it, okay?" he said softly.

Sam turned toward Dean's voice and slowly nodded. "Okay…but, I'm not really tired. I…I'm actually…uh…" Sam stammered, his voice trailing off as he dropped his head again.

Dean reached for his brother and gently lifted his face. "What is it, kiddo? You're what?" he asked.

Sam bit at his bottom lip, a habit he'd had since he was a small child, and Dean's heart clenched as he suddenly saw his brother as the chubby little boy who had his eyes on the last cookie in the jar. Dean smiled at the memory then gave his brother a gentle nudge. "Sam?" he said softly.

"Oh…uh…I just…I'm kinda hungry, but I know there's more important things to worry about right now, so…nevermind," Sam answered sheepishly.

"Sam…if you're hungry then I'll go get you something to eat. I'm sure Dean is pretty hungry too…right Dean?" John quipped, the man giving his eldest son a quick smile.

"Yeah, Dad…I could really go for something greasy right now," Dean answered eagerly, his green eyes watching his brother closely.

Sam bit his lip again and turned his head in the direction his father's voice had come from. "Well, if you're gonna get something for Dean, I guess you could get me something too," he said softly.

"Okay…I saw a small diner when we came into town that's just a little ways away. I'll go grab us some grub and give Bobby another call. Maybe he'll have something for us," John said as he stood and made himself ready to leave.

Once he was gone, Dean settled himself against the headboard next to Sam and pulled the boy to his side. "Sam," he whispered as he looked down at the mop head next to him, the teen smiling when Sam glanced up expectantly. "I just want you to know that if Dad says he's gonna find a way, he'll find a way. He won't give up and neither will I," he continued.

Sam sniffled and dropped his head to his brother's shoulder. "Thanks, Dean," he said softly before his breathing evened out and he was soon lost to sleep.

Dean held his brother to his side for several minutes then eased the boy down onto his pillow. He'd let him sleep until their father returned. Dean settled on his side and propped his head in his hand, the teen content to watch the steady rise and fall of his baby brother's chest. He smiled as Sam mumbled softly in his sleep before rolling slightly onto his side, his small hand coming up to cup his soft cheek. Dean couldn't get over how young his brother looked when sleeping and his heart ached as precious memories of more innocent days played through his mind. They had to find a way to bring his Sammy back. He didn't think he could take it if Sam wasn't able to remember all of the fun they'd had together. He knew he couldn't take it if Sam never remembered how close they were and how much he meant to his big brother.

"We'll find a way, Sammy…I promise you…if I have to summon that frickin' demon myself, I'll do it. It shouldn't be this way…you shouldn't be this way," he whispered softly as he continued to watch Sam sleep.

**SNSNSNSN**

"So nothing yet? There's not one damned thing in all those books of yours to tell us how to help Sammy?" John cried into his phone as he slid behind the wheel of the Impala, pushing the two greasy, aromatic paper bags into the middle to make room.

"_I'm trying, Johnny, but there's nothing. It's looking more and more like this was a special deal. I'm thinking the only way to get answers is to summon the bitch and make her talk," _Bobby hissed into John's ear, John's eyes widening a bit at the older hunter's use of profanity.

"No can do, Bobby. I can't risk her reversing everything…Dean will die if we do," John said tiredly as he brushed his hand over his face.

_"It may be the only way. I don't know what else to tell ya. Sam really got himself in deep this time and I just don't think there's any way to get him out."_

"Son of a bitch! If I'd only…if I hadn't ignored him…" John started, his chin dropping to his chest as he considered Sam's state of mind while watching his beloved brother die.

"_John…you had a lot to deal with. You can't blame yourself for this_."

"I shouldn't have taken Sam on the hunt. That harpy honed right onto him. If he hadn't been there, Dean wouldn't have had to jump between he and that thing! We would've killed it and everything would be fine right now," John said, self disgust evident in every word he uttered.

_"You don't know that. It still could have ended badly. Sam could have been left alone."_

"He wouldn't be alone, Bobby. You…Jim…Caleb and Josh. Between you all, you would have made sure he was taken care of," John replied as he reached forward and started the car.

_"Wouldn't be the same and you know it. That boy needs his daddy and brother. I truly don't think he'd survive if he lost either of you. I mean…look what he did at the prospect of losing Dean."_

John sighed and gazed out the windshield. "Yeah…I don't know. I just don't know what to do. It's going to devastate the boys. Dean's blaming himself…he's not going to take this well at all," he said softly.

_"No…he won't. But, he may have to learn to live with it."_

"What if we don't want to just live with it? It's not right, Bobby. I promised Sam I'd find a way to fix this. I can't go back there and tell him he's gonna be like that forever. Please…Bobby, you have to look some more. There has to be something," John pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

John heard Bobby sigh over the phone and could see him removing his hat and scratching frustratingly at his head. _"Johnny…I'll look some more. Just…don't tell the boys anything yet. Maybe I missed something,"_ he finally said.

"Yeah…thanks, Bobby. I appreciate it," John said with sigh of relief.

_"Don't mention it, Johnny. You know how much those boys mean to us all,"_ Bobby replied before disconnecting the call.

John closed his phone then dropped it on the seat beside him. He pulled out of the diner parking lot and maneuvered the Impala onto the street in the direction of the motel. He pushed his foot down on the gas pedal, his need to get back to his boys pushing him to hurry despite the posted speed limit of the small town. Five minutes later he was pulling in front of the room he had rented, his dark eyes moving toward the curtained window. He exited the car and pulled the bags and his phone from the seat. A sudden shiver went down his spine and he stopped and looked out over the parking lot, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He glanced around for a few moments then shook his head before moving to the door. He placed the bags between his teeth and reached into his pocket for the key. Once he had the door unlocked he pushed into the room and smiled as his eyes washed over his boys. Dean lay on his side facing Sam, his hand resting protectively over the boy's waist while Sam had turned partially on his side facing his brother.

John dropped the bags onto the table and watched as Dean startled awake, his arm instinctively reaching over Sam and pulling him toward his body before his green eyes recognized that there was no threat. He let out a shaky breath and eased up from the bed. His eyes found the two diner bags and his stomach immediately growled when the aroma hit his nose. He turned and looked down at Sam before reaching out and gently shaking the boy awake.

"Hey, Sammy…Dad's back with the food," he said, the teen helping his brother to sit up when Sam's sightless eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm…smells good," Sam mumbled as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

John hurried to the bed and took Sam's searching hand as the boy stood on unsteady legs between the two beds. Dean came around the bed and waited as John guided Sam toward the table, the teen pulling out a chair for his floundering brother. Once Sam was safely seated and his chair pushed into the table, John and Dean moved around the table, Dean taking the other chair and John leaning against the wall as he pulled the food he had brought from the bag. Soon, all three Winchesters were eagerly eating their meal, the two elder men watching closely as Sam carefully put each forkful into his mouth. The boy, sensing eyes upon him, glanced up, his strange white eyes moving between the two men, but not quite honing in on them.

"What?" Sam asked self consciously as he lowered his eyes to the table.

"Nothing, Sammy. Just…uh…you're doing pretty good for not…well, you know," Dean replied softly.

Sam smiled slightly and lifted his fork again. "It's okay, Dean…I may not be able to see, but I know where my mouth is," he said with a slight smirk.

"Smartass," Dean mumbled before going back to eating his food.

John shook his head and smiled at his boys before thoughts of his conversation with Bobby flooded his mind and he dropped his eyes so Dean couldn't see the worry on his face. He couldn't let either son know what Bobby had said. He had to have faith that Bobby would find something even though it was looking as if Sam could remain this way for the rest of his life. John took a deep breath, steadied his nerves then looked back up at his sons. Dean was watching Sam intently before he glanced up at his father and tilted his head. John tried to mask his worries, but he could tell the exact moment when Dean figured out that something wasn't right. Dean gazed at his father then turned his gaze to his brother. Finally, he looked back up at John, his eyes filling as he realized what it was that could make his father look so miserable.

"No," Dean mouthed silently as he shook his head in denial, a single tear escaping down his cheek as he watched his father drop his eyes again.

Dean slowly turned his head, his green eyes once again lighting upon his baby brother. He silently set his fork on the table and dropped his hands into his lap. Sam, sensing the change in his brother, turned in the older boy's direction.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam asked cautiously.

Dean glanced up at his father before returning his gaze to Sam. "Nothing, Sammy," he answered softly.

Sam tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "I can tell something's wrong, Dean. What is it?" he asked again, his voice holding a hint of frustration.

"It's…I just got a little dizzy is all. It's not a big deal," Dean finally said.

"What? Are you okay?" Sam cried as he dropped his fork into his food container.

Dean pushed back from the table and scooted toward his brother. He reached out and rested his hand on his suddenly agitated brother's shoulder. "I'm fine, Sam. I'm just hungrier than I thought. Got a little light headed," he explained as he gave Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Sam bit nervously at his lower lip as he contemplated his brother's words. "Are you sure?" he asked softly, his voice shaky and unsure.

"I'm sure, Sammy. I'm fine…really," Dean answered. "Now, can we eat?"

Sam smiled, his body relaxing as relief flooded through him. "Yeah…okay," he replied.

Dean looked up at John and shook his head before scooting back in front of his food and taking up his fork. The three Winchesters finished their meals in silence, the two older ones stealing glances at each other, their fear clearly written on their faces as they both dealt with the very real possibility of never getting the old Sam back.

****

**That's all for now. I'll have more up in a few days. Love you all.**

**Cindy**


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys are awesome! Thank you so much for reading and for taking the time to let me know what you think about the story. I'm going to let you get right to the next chapter, then I'm going to start working on chapter 8. This is it for completed chapters so now I'll be posting when I get a chapter done. It won't be very few days or so like it has been. I hope you'll stick with me even if you have to wait longer for updates. Anyway...on to the story.**

**SNSNSNSNSNSN**

John stood over his boys, his dark eyes watching as the brothers slept. He'd been busy loading up the Impala while his sons got a little bit more much needed rest. They would need all the rest they could get for the long trip ahead. John had made another call to Bobby and had hesitantly agreed when the older man had insisted he load his boys up and bring them to South Dakota. Bobby had once again made the case that summoning the demon was most likely the only way to bring Sam back. He insisted that it would be safer to do the summoning at his place. John had finally agreed, though he still wasn't sure that summoning the demon was the best idea. The thought of losing his oldest son so that he could have his youngest back didn't sit well with him, but to leave Sam the way he was wasn't an option either. John was stuck between a rock and a hard place and he'd lost his paddle up the creek a long time ago.

John leaned over and gently shook Dean's shoulder. He smiled when bleary green eyes opened and stared up at him. "Up and at 'em, Dean. We're heading to Bobby's," he said before turning his attention to his youngest son who was just beginning to stir.

John looked up as Dean crawled from the bed without a word and headed to the bathroom. He turned back to Sam and slid his arm under his back when the groggy boy attempted to sit up.

"Wh…what's goin' on?" Sam whispered as he was helped into a sitting position.

"We're going to Bobby's house. You'll be safe there while he figures out how to fix things," John replied, the man helping to maneuver his son's legs over the edge of the bed.

Sam turned in the direction of John's voice, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Safe? Safe from what?" he asked.

John shifted around until he sat side by side with his son then clasped his hands between his knees. "Sam…there's some things that, because of your memory loss, you don't know about," John said in a low, nervous voice.

"Like what? Is this about my eyes?" Sam queried as his hands began to shake.

John reached over and took his son's hands, steadying the shaking as he tried to decide how much he should share with the boy. "Yes, it has to do with your eyes…and your memory loss."

"What is it? Tell me," Sam pleaded as he pulled his hands from his father's grip.

"Sam…I don't think right now is the time. Once we get to Bobby's…"

"I want to know! You know why I'm like this…well…I have a right to know too! Tell me…please!"

John looked into his son's white eyes and shook his head. He looked up as Dean exited the bathroom, the teen's eyes wide as he had obviously heard the conversation through the thin motel room door.

"Dad…what're you doing?" Dean asked cautiously.

Sam jerked his head around at the sound of Dean's voice then pushed himself up on shaky legs. "Dean…what's going on? Why am I blind? Why can't I remember you?" he cried softly.

"Sam…I…I don't know," Dean answered haltingly, his eyes narrowing on his father before he stepped forward and took his brother's arms.

"You're lying," Sam whispered. "You know and you're not telling me. That's why you were acting weird earlier…isn't it?"

"Sammy…please let Dad and me handle this. You don't need to worry about it. It'll all be taken care of once we get to Bobby's house. Just…"

"I have the right to know! I'm the one who's blind! I'm the one who can't remember!" Sam shouted as he jerked his arms out of his brother's hands.

John stood and stepped up behind his son. He took hold of his shoulders and eased him around so he could see his face. "Sam…you're right. You have the right to know…"

"Dad!"

John looked up and shook his head. "Dean…he has the right. We need to tell him."

"But…"

"Dean…please," Sam's soft voice sounded, bringing his brother's attention back to him.

Dean sighed and took Sam's arm again. He guided him to the bed and helped him to sit on the edge. He stared down into his brother's upturned face and swallowed nervously. He then looked up to his father and nodded. John nodded back then kneeled on the floor before his sons. He placed his hands on Sam's knees and smiled when the boy turned his face to him. He silently wished Sam could see the smile he rarely saw in normal times.

"Sam…a while back…Dean was hurt, badly…in a hunt," John started, the man having to stop and swallow back the sudden lump in his throat. "He…he was dying."

"Wh-what? But…he seems fine now. How was he hurt?" Sam asked.

"He is fine now…because of you," John said in reply.

"I…I don't understand."

"We're hunters…but not the normal kind of hunters," Dean offered as he slid his arm around Sam's back.

"What do you mean?"

"We hunt…monsters," Dean said in a hushed, nervous voice.

"Monsters? What…"

"There are things out there. Things most people think are just fiction. Some are, but most aren't. We hunt those things to keep people safe," John said evenly.

Sam shook his head and slumped down until his elbows rested on his knees and his chin dropped to his chest. "You both must think I'm really stupid. You think because I'm blind I'll be easy to fool. Well…I'm not stupid! Monsters aren't real!" he screamed, his voice breaking as he suddenly pushed to his feet and staggered away from the bed.

Dean hurried to his feet and moved forward, but stopped when Sam turned, his cheeks flushed, lips trembling as he fought to keep angry, hurt tears at bay.

"Sammy, we know you're not stupid. You're smarter than both of us," Dean said as he inched towards his brother.

"So, what?" Sam started, his hands reaching out to find something to grab hold of as his legs wobbled dangerously beneath him. "You're just lying to me for the fun of it?" he continued bitterly.

John stood and stepped up to his son. He took the boy by the shoulders and pulled him into his arms. He held Sam for several moments before stepping back, his hands still firmly on Sam's shoulders. "Sam…we're not lying. We hunt creatures…spirits…all kinds of things that people think are just figments of horror writer's imaginations."

"No…I don't believe you. I…"

"Sammy…you lost your vision…your memory because you…you…" Dean stammered, his green eyes nervously glancing up at his father when the words would not come.

John nodded and glanced down at his baby's face. "To save Dean, you summoned a crossroads demon, Sam. You made a deal, and she took your sight and memories," he said softly.

"Wh-what? No…demons aren't real," Sam whispered. "They're not real."

"They are…they exist," Dean said.

Sam turned his face toward his brother's voice and slowly shook his head. "But…why would she take my sight and memory? Aren't they supposed to take your soul or something? You know, like in the movies?" he asked.

"Yes, normally the price is the soul. We don't know why that didn't happen with you," John said in reply.

Sam straightened and moved back from his father. "I don't believe you," he simply said.

"Sam…remember the dream you had? The woman who kissed you?" Dean asked softly as he stepped up to his brother.

"Y-Yeah?" Sam replied nervously.

"She was the demon. You didn't just have a dream. Your subconscious was remembering what happened that night. The night I didn't die," Dean said.

Sam swallowed as he stared blankly ahead. Finally, he turned his face toward Dean. "So…if this Bobby guy finds a way to reverse the deal, what happens to you?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"Sammy…we just don't know," Dean answered.

"Could you die? If we find a way to get my sight and memory back…could you die?"

"Sam…don't…"

"I want to know the truth, Dean! Could you die?"

"Sam," John started, the man continuing when Sam turned his face toward him. "Bobby feels the only way to reverse the deal is to summon the demon and force her to give you your sight and memories back," John said.

"Okay…but, what happens to Dean?"

John shook his head as he glanced over at his eldest son. "We don't know," he said softly.

"Then we don't do it," Sam said in a hushed, resigned voice.

"Sam, no…we do whatever it takes," Dean cried. "Dad…tell him!"

John glanced over at Dean, the torn look on his face terrifying the teen. The man dropped his eyes and shook his head.

"Dad…we summon the demon. If that's the only way, that's what we do!"

"No! Not if it means you could die, Dean!" Sam cried as he moved toward his brother's voice.

Dean turned glistening eyes onto his brother and closed the distance between them. He took Sam by his shoulders and held him at arms length. "Sam…we have to take the chance. We can't leave you like this," his shaky voice said.

"I don't want you to die…not because of me, Dean. I may not remember you, but I know that I couldn't take it if you died. I mean, if you guys are telling me the truth, then I must've loved you quite a bit to make that deal," Sam rushed, his trembling hands coming up to grip his brother's arms.

"Sammy…"

"It's my choice!" Sam suddenly shouted as he pushed away from his brother. "Your life is more important than my eyesight!"

Dean dropped his eyes and took in a deep, shuddering breath. He looked up to meet his father's eyes before he turned back to his trembling brother. "What about your memories, Sam? I don't know if I can stand you not remembering me and Dad. It'll be like all of the stuff we've done together, all of the laughs…and fights…all of it never happened. Our past together will be gone forever, Sammy," he said softly, his younger brother clearly hearing the tears in his voice.

Sam took a step forward and reached for his brother. Dean took his searching hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked down into the white eyes and swallowed. Sam smiled warmly and squeezed his brother's hand back. "We'll make new memories, Dean," he responded in an equally tearful voice.

"God, Sammy…I don't know," Dean said before suddenly pulling the smaller boy to his chest and wrapping his arms firmly around him.

Sam melted into his brother's embrace and closed his stinging eyes. "It'll be okay, Dean. Everything will be okay," he whispered against the older boy's chest.

Dean blinked back tears then looked up at his father. John stood a few feet away and seemed to be uncertain as to what he should do. Finally, he moved forward and took both of his sons into his arms. The three remained this way for several minutes before John finally stepped back, his hands remaining on his boy's backs.

"Come on…we need to get on the road. Bobby's expecting us to get to his place sometime tomorrow."

Sam jerked his face toward his father in surprise. "But, I said no! We're not summoning this demon! No way!" he cried.

John shook his head, forgetting for a moment that Sam couldn't see him. He moved his hand up from Sam's back to gently cup the back of his neck. "No…if you don't want it, then it won't happen. I still think that the safest place for you right now is Bobby's though. We'll just have to figure out another way and until then, we couldn't be any safer than we would be at Bobby's house," he explained.

"I don't understand, Dad. The demon got what she wanted so why am I not safe?" Sam queried before biting nervously at his lower lip.

"You're vulnerable right now, kiddo. We need some place safe until we figure this out. We could go to Jims, but it's further away and Bobby is the king of research…so, it's Bobby's place we go to," John answered as he moved to get his youngest son ready for the long trip ahead.

Dean watched as John began to gather the rest of their possessions together then he moved to help Sam to the door. He guided Sam to the Impala and helped him into the back seat. "How's your head, Sam?" he asked softly as he snapped the seatbelt in place then wrapped a blanket around the boy's legs.

"I'm fine, Dean. Headache's gone," Sam answered, the boy allowing his brother to fawn over him only because he couldn't see to help himself.

"That's good. Do you want me to ride back here with you?" Dean asked.

"Where do you usually ride?" Sam queried in reply.

"Um…I usually ride up front, but I think I should maybe ride back here," Dean answered.

"No…if you usually ride up front then you should ride up front. I may want to lay down later anyway."

"What? Why…are you feeling okay? Were you lying about your head? What about your stomach?"

"Dean…I'm fine. I'm just saying I may get tired later. That's all."

"Uh…okay. If you're sure, Sammy."

"I'm sure."

Dean watched Sam for a few moments before sighing and shutting the door. He slipped into the front seat and watched as John came out from the motel room and slammed the door shut. John opened the back passenger door and tossed the few items he'd gathered from the room onto the floor. He gave Sam a quick glance then shut the door. He opened the front door and slid behind the wheel then pushed the key into the ignition. He twisted the key and the Impala's engine came to life with a deep, rumbling roar.

"Wow…it's loud," Sam said in wonder from the backseat.

Dean chuckled as he turned in his seat and gazed at his younger brother. Once again, he was struck by the uncomfortable sight of Sam's white eyes. He also noticed that Sam seemed to be blinking quite a bit and wondered if maybe his eyes were more sensitive to light now. He turned and opened the glove box as John backed out of the parking space then reached his hand in and removed a pair of sunglasses. He turned once more in his seat and watched as a tear trailed down Sam's cheek.

"Sam, is the light bothering your eyes," he asked as he turned fully in his seat and leaned over the back.

"Uh…kinda, I guess," Sam answered sheepishly. "They're stinging a little bit."

"Here, let me put these on you then," Dean said before slipping the sunglasses over Sam's eyes.

Sam jumped a little, but settled when the glasses brought instant relief to his eyes. "Thanks, Dean," he said softly before resting his head against his seat back.

"No problem, little brother," Dean said as he turned back around and settled into his seat.

John glanced over at his eldest son then looked into the rearview mirror to make sure Sam appeared comfortable. "We have a long drive ahead so you boys make yourselves comfortable. Sammy, if you need to stop and take a rest, you just let me know, okay?" he instructed. "You too, Dean," he continued as he glanced once again at Dean.

"Okay…Dad," Sam said in a hushed voice.

John guided the Impala through the streets of the small town until he came to the entrance to the highway. Once he was headed in the direction of South Dakota, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and pushed one button then waited for his call to be answered. When Bobby's gruff voice answered, he spoke.

"Bobby, you better get your books out again," he began, then shook his head as he listened to the man on the other end of the line. "I know, but there won't be any summoning, so we're gonna have to find another way."

John listened for a few more moments then sighed. "Yeah, I know, Bobby. I know," he finally said before flipping the phone shut and tucking it back into his jacket.

John looked over at Dean and saw the same distress in his green eyes that he himself was feeling inside. The thought that they may never get their old Sam back was almost more than either Winchester could take. It was Sam's words to his brother that gave them their only solace in the entire mess they found themselves in.

"_We'll make new memories, Dean."_

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

**Well, that's it for now. Please remember...reviews are love :)**

**Cindy**


	8. Chapter 8

**I know, I know...it's taken a long time for me to get this next chapter posted. I had a lot of trouble with it, plus I think I picked something up in Chicago 'cause I've had a sore throat for over two weeks now and haven't been feeling my best. I'm not completely happy with this chapter, but didn't want you all to wait any longer. So, I won't keep you any longer. On with the story.**

**Cindy**

**SNSNSNSNSNSN**

John pulled into Singer's Salvage Yard just past dusk the following day. The plan had been to reach Bobby's in the early morning, but the plan didn't take into consideration that a blind Sam would be a Sam who became easily carsick. Instead of driving straight through like John had wanted, he'd been forced to take several breaks along the way to allow for Sam's stomach to settle and finally had pulled into a motel because he was afraid of his baby becoming dehydrated from all of the fluids he was losing alongside the road. An early morning trip to WalMart to buy some motion sickness medication, gatorade and a box of saltines, followed by a light breakfast had turned out to be just what the doctor ordered and the three Winchesters were on the road by noon. Sam slept off and on for most of the trip, the boy exhausted from the pukefest the day before, and Dean? Well, Dean spent nearly the entire trip turned in his seat, watching his little brother like a hawk, until Sam had sighed and let him know that even though he couldn't see, he could feel Dean staring at him and could he please stop because it was beginning to creep him out. Dean had obliged with a few swear words mumbled under his breath and had taken to spending the rest of the trip casting glances over his shoulder until Sam had fallen asleep again, opening the door for big brother to once again take up his bleary eyed vigil.

John pulled up to the steps of Bobby's porch, shut off the engine of the car and turned toward his eldest son. He smiled as Dean turned his attention from his brother to him. "You're going to have a kink in your neck tomorrow, kid," he said, his voice gravely from disuse.

Dean shrugged a shoulder and glanced back at his sleeping brother. "Just wanted to make sure I caught him in case he started to get sick again. Don't want him puking all over the seat and stinking up the car," he said nonchalantly.

John followed Dean's gaze and nodded slightly. "Yeah…that's what you were worried about," he said with a wink.

Dean shrugged again and turned in his seat. He smiled when he saw the screendoor open and Bobby step out onto the porch with a concerned look on his face. "Guess we better get Sammy inside before Bobby's face sticks like that," he said with a smirk.

John turned and gave his old friend a wave then pushed his door open. He stepped out of the car and glanced over the roof as Dean made his exit on the other side.

"'bout time you idjits got here," Bobby called as he made his way down the steps. "How's the kids stomach anyway?"

"Better…he's pretty wiped out though," John answered before turning to carefully open the back door of the Impala. He reached in and took Sam's shoulder to keep the boy from tumbling out onto the ground, then knelt down as he gently shook his son awake. "Sammy…we're here," he called softly.

Sam groaned then slowly opened his eyes and stared up toward his father's face. "Sweet Jesus," Bobby hissed under his breath, his hand coming up to cover his mouth before he said anything else.

John glanced up at his friend and shook his head. Bobby nodded and backed up a step, his gaze transfixed by the sight of Sam's eyes. John had neglected to tell him this little piece of information and he had been shocked when instead of seeing the soft hazel eyes he'd become used to, he had been hit with stark white, just a hint of the iris beneath.

"D-Dad…what's wrong," Sam asked nervously, his hand reaching out to grasp John's arm.

"Nothing, kiddo," John answered as he helped the boy from the car while Dean retrieved their bags from the trunk.

Bobby stepped up to his friend and looked down at the small boy beside him. "Hey, Sam…my name is Bobby," he said cautiously.

Sam flinched at the strange voice and pressed himself to his father's side before squaring his shoulders and reaching out his hand toward the older man. "N-Nice to meet you, Bobby," he said timidly.

Bobby took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. "You look hungry…how 'bout you come in and sit down. I made your fav…uh…I made chicken breast and mac and cheese," he said. "Thought maybe it'd be easy on your stomach."

"Oh…thanks. So, chicken breast and macaroni and cheese are my favorite?" Sam answered as he stared blankly up at Bobby.

Bobby chuckled as he watched Sam's upturned face. "Well, at least not everything has changed. Still can't get anything past this one," he said before glancing up at John. "Come on in…lets eat then we can get these boys to bed."

"Hey…I'm not a boy. I don't go to bed this early," Dean whined as he came around the back of the car, his arms laden with duffel bags.

Bobby shook his head then reached in to help Dean with his load. "Oh…sorry…forgot, you're a man now," he said as he turned and headed for the house.

"You got that right…now, don't you forget it," Dean called before falling in line behind his father and brother.

Ten minutes later found the four hunters settled around Bobby's table, silently enjoying the first home cooked meal the three Winchesters had had in months. Sam was actually eating, and enjoying his meal, which brought untold relief to his family. He finished and leaned back in his seat, his eyes cast downward toward his lap.

"Sammy? What's wrong, buddy?" Dean asked with concern as he watched his brother carefully.

"I…uh…it's nothing. I'm fine," Sam whispered, his eyes coming up to stare blankly in Dean's direction.

"Sam…I can tell something is bothering you so you may as well tell us," Dean said in reply.

Sam sighed and shrank down further in his seat. "You all are being so nice to me and I just wish I…I wish I could remember, that's all," Sam cried softly.

Dean glanced at John wide eyed and swallowed. John shook his head and looked over at his youngest son. "Sam? Are you saying you want to summon the demon now? Do you want us to try and reverse the deal?" he asked.

"No...I want to remember, but I don't want to take the chance that something bad could happen to Dean," Sam answered with tears in his eyes. "There's gotta be some other way…right?"

"Son," Bobby started, his heart breaking at the situation his adopted family had gotten themselves into. "I've been researching and calling all over the place. I'm not gonna stop, but it ain't looking good. I'm sorry, kiddo…I really am."

"It's not your fault, sir. I…"

"Don't call me sir, Sam. I'm Bobby. Always have been, always will be," Bobby interrupted.

Sam nodded lightly and looked in Bobby's direction. "'m sorry. I'm the one who got myself into this mess. You shouldn't apologize for something you had nothing to do with, Bobby."

"Well, I am sorry, sport. I'm supposed to be able to find the answers…that's what I do, but the one time it's needed the most…I find squat!" Bobby suddenly cried out causing Sam to flinch from the anger in his voice.

John reached over and took hold of Bobby's arm, giving it a firm squeeze. "Bobby, Sam's right. You can't blame yourself for anything. If anyone's to blame, it's me. If I hadn't taken Sam on that harpy hunt, Dean wouldn't have been hurt and Sam wouldn't have made that deal," he said.

"Dad…no…" Dean started, but John would have nothing of it.

"Dean…it's true. I was worried about leaving Sam in the room while we went and did the hunt when the real danger was out in those woods. I should have just left him…"

"Dad…please stop," Sam whispered.

John pushed back from the table, slid off his chair and kneeled in front of his son. "Sam…I…"

"I don't know what happened…I can't remember, but I think it isn't gonna do anybody any good to blame themselves. It's not gonna change anything is it? I'm still gonna be blind. I'm still not gonna remember you," Sam said, his voice shaking as he held back his tears.

"Sammy…" Dean started with tears in his own voice.

"I don't understand," Sam said softly, his chin dropping to his chest.

"You don't understand what?" Dean asked.

"I can remember some stuff…school, books I've read, movies I've seen, but…but I don't remember anything about my life with you guys. Except for my dreams…when I see that…that thing hurting you, I don't know anything about you…about us," Sam answered.

Dean reached out and grasped Sam's knee. "Sam…let us summon the demon then. We can get your memories back…we can get your eyesight back! Let us get them back for you, Sammy…please," Dean pleaded.

Sam sighed and turned his face toward his brother. "No. We'll find another way."

"Sam…"

"I said no, Dean!" Sam cried.

Dean pulled his hand away from Sam's leg and dropped his eyes. "Sammy," he whispered.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to yell…I just…I'm sorry…"

"Okay…I think it's time for you two to get to bed. We're all tired and we've been through a lot these past days. We'll talk more about this in the morning," John interrupted as he pushed himself to his feet.

Dean looked up before he too stood. He reached down to take Sam's arm then helped the boy to his feet. "Come on, Sammy…Dad's right…you're tired, I'm tired…"

"We're not doing it, Dean. We're not doing it," Sam mumbled as he allowed his brother to lead him to the stairs that would take them to the room Bobby kept for them.

"We'll talk about it in the morning…"

"Doesn't matter…we're not doin' it…not if it puts you in danger."

"Sammy…we can't leave you like this," Dean said as he and Sam stepped up from the last step and into the second floor hallway.

"You heard, Bobby…he's not gonna stop," Sam said, the boy letting his brother maneuver him down the hall.

Dean led Sam to a doorway halfway down the hall then gently pushed him into the room and to the bed furthest from the door. He sat Sam down on the bed and looked down at his brother's upturned face. "You stay here…I'm going down to get our duffel bags. Don't move," he said.

"Where am I gonna go?" Sam asked with a sigh.

"Yeah…I'll be right back," Dean said then turned and walked out of the room, leaving his brother sitting on the edge of his bed.

Sam listened at Dean's retreating footsteps then let his body fall back on the bed when he heard the older boy descend the steps. He let his eyes close and waited for Dean to return.

_"Sam…"_

Sam let out a startled gasp as he quickly sat up. "What? Who's there?" he queried softly, voice shaking with sudden trepidation.

Sam turned his head, listening for the voice to answer. After several moments of silence, Sam pushed up from the bed and started to make his way toward where he thought the door was.

_"Sam…"_

Sam stopped and spun around, the sudden motion causing him to momentarily lose is balance. His hand shot out and thankfully came in contact with the dresser, keeping the boy from falling to the floor. "Who are you? What do you want with me?" he cried out as he turned and leaned his back against the dresser.

"Sammy…who you talking to?" Dean's voice suddenly sounded and Sam physically jumped at the unexpected sound.

"D-Dean? I…I thought I heard something," Sam answered, obvious relief in his voice.

Dean rushed to his brother's side, his green eyes scanning the shadowed corners of the bedroom. "What did you hear?" he asked as he once again helped Sam to his bed.

"Uh…I don't know…I thought someone was calling for me, but…I must be hearing things," Sam said sheepishly.

Dean sat Sam down then moved to the window. His eyes moved over the darkened back lot, but he saw nothing out of place. He went to the closet door and opened it then turned on the light. Finding nothing he turned out the light and closed the door. He made his way back to his brother and sat next to him on the bed.

"I think maybe you're just tired, Sammy," he said.

Sam turned his head toward his brother and nodded. "You're probably right," he replied softly.

"Well, lets get you changed then you can brush your teeth," Dean said as he unzipped Sam's duffel bag and pulled out his toiletry bag and sleep clothes. "You need help?" he asked as he laid the tee shirt and sweatpants on the bed.

"Uh…no, I got it," Sam answered.

"Okay…I'll be right here if you need me."

"Thanks, Dean."

Dean smiled then tossed his duffel bag onto his bed. He made quick work of changing into his sleep clothes then made sure Sam didn't need any help. He smiled when he saw that Sam had changed with no problems. He stepped toward his brother and retrieved the toiletry bag from the bed.

"Come on, kiddo…lets get our teeth brushed," he said as he took Sam's arm and led him toward the door.

Ten minutes later, Sam was tucked safely under his blankets and Dean was in his own bed, his green eyes watching his brother as Sam lay on his side, white eyes staring sightlessly toward him. Dean turned his gaze to the door when John walked into the room.

"Hey, Dad," he said as John walked between the two beds.

"You two are ready for lights out I see. Everything okay in here? You comfortable, Sam?" John asked, his dark eyes gazing down at his youngest son.

"I'm good, Dad," Sam answered tiredly.

"Um…Dad?" Dean called from his bed.

John turned and glanced down into the worried face of his eldest son. "What is it, Dean?"

"Probably nothing, but…Sam thought he heard someone," Dean answered.

"What? What do you mean?" John asked with sudden alarm.

"Dean…I said it was probably 'cause I was so tired…I think I may gave fallen asleep and was just dreaming," Sam spoke up as he pushed himself up in the bed.

John dropped down to his knees and gently eased Sam back down onto the mattress. "What did you hear, Sam?" he coaxed.

Sam sighed as he blinked up at his father. "Uh…it…it sounded like the woman's voice from my dream. She was saying my name. I'm sure I was just dreaming," he answered.

"Dad…I checked out the window…I checked the room out. Everything looked fine. I think Sam's right, but I thought you should know anyway," Dean said.

"You're probably right. Bobby and I will check out the perimeter just in case," John said as he tucked the blanket up around Sam's chin. "Don't worry, Sam…nothing can get into this house…plus, I'll be right across the hall. You're safe here."

"I know. I'm just tired, Dad and…well, with everything that's happened, I guess I'm a little on edge," Sam said, the maturity the young teen was displaying amazing his father not for the first time.

"That's probably it. You boys get some sleep. Bobby and I will be up pretty late so you don't need to worry about a thing," John said as he ruffled his youngest son's hair.

John shuffled to Dean's bed and patted him on the shoulder. "Get some rest, kid," he said before he pushed to his feet and walked to the door. He flipped the switch on the wall and the room was cast into darkness. He turned and gave his boys one last look before he stepped into the hall and shut the door. Worry tugged at his mind and he stood for several moments outside his boy's room. It was very possible that Sam was hearing things. The events of the past few days coupled with the exhausting trip to Bobby's could explain the voice he heard. Imaginations can run wild when that tired and the most likely cause was that Sam had fallen asleep and had dreamt that someone was calling to him. John wasn't going to be taking any chances though. He'd check the grounds, make sure all of the protections were in place and he'd sleep with his door open so he could hear any sound from his son's room.

John reluctantly moved away from the room and descended the steps. He filled Bobby in on what the boys had told him and together, the two men made sure that nothing would be able to get near the house or the two very important occupants of the room upstairs. If the demon bitch was back, they'd make sure she paid for what she did to Sam, and maybe, just maybe, they'd get Sam's sight and memories back.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

**So, is Sammy just hearing things or is the bitch back? Hmmmm...guess we'll have to wait to find out. Please let me know what you think...and...thank you so much for your comments for the last chapter. I'll try to get the next chapter up quicker...we have to see what's in store for our favorite family!**

**Cindy**


	9. Chapter 9

**I know...I know! Come on, let me have it! I have no excuse for my tardiness other than bewilderment and laziness. I've been trying to figure out the direction my little story should take ever since the lovely lady I'm writing it for made a request that goes against how things were supposed to turn out. Now, I think I may have figured out how to give her what she wishes for and still have it be believeable...I hope. So, 'taking a break' and trying to figure out how to make it work has led to you all waiting ten days for an update. Anyway, enough talk...lets read!**

**Cindy**

**SN SN SN SN SN**

Sam awoke with a start, his chest heaving as he sucked in deep, gasping breaths. One shaky hand rose to nurse his chest as he willed himself to calm down. Once he was able to catch his breath, he gingerly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. He listened for any sign that Dean had been awakened, but all he heard was the even sound of his brother's breathing. Sam sighed, glad that Dean was still asleep. He knew his brother was exhausted, plus he really wanted to be able to do something without the older boy guiding his every move. He wished that he could remember what made his brother so protective, what made him so devoted to keeping him safe. Sam smiled as he pushed to his feet, the boy warmed by the feeling of safety this young man who was his brother brought to him. As he carefully made his way toward the door, his smile fell as his thoughts returned to the nightmare he'd woken from.

The dream was different this time. There was no winged woman with long, sharp claws. There was no woman leering down at him with painted red lips, tongue ghosting over them in anticipation of the coming kiss. This time there was only a hospital room and the tall, dark haired man who he knew now to be his father. And then there was Dean. The young man from his previous dreams looked pale and small in the hospital bed, tubes and wires running from every part of his body, machines beeping and chirping as he slipped further and further away. Sam knew that this was more of a memory than a dream and he wondered how that could be. Why could he remember things in his sleep when he couldn't remember them awake? Why did his dreams flit away so quickly, leaving him grasping for any thread just so he could remember something…anything?

Sam shook his head as his searching hands found the doorknob. He turned it as quietly as he could and slipped through the open door. He counted his steps back toward the direction he remembered the bathroom to be and stepped into the room. Though he had some difficulty, he was able to finish his business fairly quickly then washed his hands before beginning the slow trek back to he and Dean's room. He stepped out into the hall and smiled as his now acute hearing picked up the sounds of his brother mumbling in his sleep.

_"Sam…"_

Sam spun around and nearly lost his balance before catching himself with one hand on the wall. "Wh-who's there?" he called shakily.

No sound met his ears and after a few minutes he let out a long breath then pushed away from the wall. "Jumpy much?" he whispered with a half chuckle as he once again began to shuffle toward his room.

_"Sam…"_

Sam stopped, unable to move as the eerie voice echoed lightly down the hallway. He turned toward the stairs and with one hand sliding along the wall, guiding his way, he began to walk. He wasn't sure where the voice was coming from, but he knew that he had really heard it. It wasn't exhaustion, or his imagination. The hair standing up on the back of his neck was proof that the voice was more than that. It was there, just as real as the wood floor beneath his feet…and it was familiar. He didn't know how he knew it. He only knew that he'd heard it before and it brought nothing but cold, deep fear to his heart. He didn't know why he was even considering seeking the voice out without waking his brother, but deep inside he realized his fear was more for the young man who called himself brother than for himself.

Sam's hand finally hit the corner of the wall that signaled the landing at the head of the staircase. He remembered being guided up these steps and knew how steep they were. He searched for the handrail before slowly making his way down the steps. After what seemed like hours, his bare feet found the wooden floor of Bobby's livingroom. Sam stopped and listened for any trace of the phantom voice.

"Where are you? What do you want?" he called softly when all that met his ears was the steady ticking of the cuckoo clock on the wall.

_"Sam…come to me…"_

Sam jerked his head toward the back of the house and swallowed nervously as he began to move in that direction. He wanted to turn around…wanted to wake his father and brother, but he couldn't. His feet seemed to move of their own accord until he was in the kitchen and searching for a door that would lead him outside. Finally, his hand grazed the doorknob and within seconds he walking out onto the porch, the cold night air enveloping him, cooling his heated skin. He found the railing to the stairs and eased one foot down onto the first step. Suddenly, a hand grabbed hold of his shoulder and began to pull him back.

"No!" Sam yelled in fear and surprise as he swung his arm around, hoping to hit whomever, or whatever was attacking him.

"Sam! Stop…it's me!" a familiar voice cried causing Sam to immediately stop and nearly collapse back in his relief.

"D-Dean?" he asked, his voice barely more than a sigh. "I…I…"

"Shhh, Sammy…wait," Dean whispered as he pulled Sam back up onto the porch and moved in front of him.

"What? Dean…"

"I heard it, Sam. The voice…I heard it this time," Dean said, his hand reaching back to make sure Sam stayed behind him.

"You heard it? Who is it? What does she want with me?" Sam cried softly, the tremor in his voice telling his older brother just how terrified he was.

"My guess? It's the bitch who took your sight, Sammy," Dean answered as he stepped back, gently pushing Sam toward the door that would take them to the relative safety of Bobby's kitchen. "What the hell were you thinking anyway? Coming out here by yourself? I should kick your ass, you know that right?"

"Dean…I…"

"_You can't keep him from me, Dean," _the voice suddenly called. _"I need to see Sam."_

"You ain't getting anywhere near him, bitch!" Dean shouted angrily. "Now…show yourself!"

Sam whimpered lightly behind Dean and the older boy reached back and placed a comforting hand on the terrified teen's chest. Suddenly, hurried footsteps could be heard racing toward the house and toward where the boys stood. The back door crashed open and both John and Bobby stumbled out onto the porch behind Sam.

"Dean…Sam…what the hell is going on!" John spat as he rounded in front of his eldest son, his dark eyes wide with worry.

"She's here, Dad," Dean answered. "I heard her."

"She? Who's here?" John asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"The demon bitch…and she wants Sam," Dean answered.

John sucked in a harsh breath and turned to scan the darkness beyond the house. "Bobby, get the boys into the house," he said, the man in full on hunter mode.

"Dad…no!" Dean cried.

"Dean…no argument! Get your brother and get into the house. Now, Dean!"

"Yes, sir…"

_"I don't think so, Johnny boy…I came here to see that sweet little boy of yours…"_

John narrowed his eyes as he scanned the yard. "The only thing you'll be seeing is fire when I send your filthy ass back to hell!" he hissed as he turned his head ever so slightly so as to see his sons behind him. "Dean..inside…now…"

Without warning, John, Dean and Bobby were flung from the porch, their grunts as they hit the ground carrying over the night breeze.

"Dean! Dad!" Sam screamed as he felt his brother ripped away from him.

"S-Sam…get inside," Dean groaned from somewhere to Sam's right.

Sam began to back up, but the voice stopped him in his tracks. _"Do and they all die, Sammy…all because of you. Show your family how brave you are, just like you showed me before."_

"Don't listen to her, son! Get inside like your brother said!" John called, the man crying out as he was lifted from the ground and slammed back against the side of the house.

"Dad!" Dean shouted, but soon he too was slamming against the wall, his back screaming as it met the unforgiving wood.

Bobby met the same fate on the opposite side of the porch, all three hunters fighting valiantly to break the demon's hold, their eyes widening when a beautiful woman with long flowing black hair stepped from the shadows, a victorious sneer curling her red lips.

"Sam…come here," the demon called, her deep blue eyes flickering to black as they turned onto the trembling teen.

"N-No…leave me alone. Let my family go!" Sam shouted defiantly, his hand gripping the porch railing tightly.

"I'll kill them all, Sam. I'll make you listen as the life is squeezed from them…their hearts ripped from their chests," the demon spat before turning her gaze onto Dean.

The demon lifted one hand and fisted her fingers and immediately, Dean began to choke. The teens face turned a deep red as blood began to trickle from the corner of his mouth. Sam, hearing the sounds of his brother's struggles, took a panicked step forward, much to his father's horror.

"Sam…no!" he shouted.

"Shut up, you frickin' moron! I don't want to hear any voice except my sweet Sammy's!" the demon screamed.

John tried to scream back, but the words refused to come. He struggled harder, his dark eyes glancing over to see his eldest son struggling to breathe. His heart pounded furiously in his chest as he watched Dean weaken from the invisible attack.

"Ahh…that's better. Silence. Now, me and my boy can talk in peace," the demon said as she turned her attention back onto the youngest hunter. "Sam…if you want your brother to live, you'll come out here to me," she called.

Sam turned his sightless gaze in his brother's direction, Dean's struggles alerting him to his whereabouts. He could hear the choking, gurgling sounds and knew what he had to do. "Okay…just…leave him alone. I'll do anything you want," he called out, his white eyes now turned in the demon's direction.

The demon smiled then dropped her hand. Dean gasped then sucked in a deep breath, his green eyes widening as he watched his baby brother carefully descend the porch steps. "Sammy…no," he called out weakly. "Please…"

Sam turned toward his brother's voice and smiled sadly. "It's okay, Dean. I'll be okay," he said before turning his head toward the demon and resuming his slow, clumsy walk across the yard.

Dean tried to call out again, but found that he too had been silenced and could only stare in horror as Sam neared the demon. Dean knew that the yard had been prepared to keep the demon away, but Sam was one step away from leaving the safe zone and panic exploded inside him as Sam took that last step toward the demon. He glanced over and saw his father double his efforts to free himself then jerked his head around when he heard Sam cry out in surprise as the demon grabbed him and pulled him further away from his family. The Winchesters and their friend could only watch as the demon held their youngest, her fingers sliding through his hair as his arms hung limply at his sides.

Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he felt himself being grabbed by the arms and pulled forward. He stumbled when the demon stopped then shuddered as she raised one hand up and tenderly brushed her fingers over his face before carding them through his hair. He tried to pull away, but her strength was too much for him and he knew his family would pay the price if he fought, so he allowed her to touch him no matter how disgusted it made him feel.

"Why do you try to pull away? Did I not give you what you wanted?" the demon cooed as she pulled her fingers from Sam's hair and took a step back. "Oh, wait…you can't remember, can you?" she continued with a chuckle, her black eyes staring down at Sam's upturned face.

"Screw you," Sam hissed, the boy flinching when the demon suddenly cupped both sides of his face with her hands. She glanced up and smiled as she saw the hatred burning in the eyes of the hunters who would give their lives in a heartbeat to protect the one who stood before her.

"Now, now, Sammy…that wasn't very nice. I've given you what you requested, and at great detriment to myself as it turned out," the demon said.

"What do you want from me? Haven't you already taken enough?" Sam snapped.

The demon once again pulled her hands away and sighed. "Funny you should mention that. It was brought to my attention that…well, I may have over stepped my bounds a bit in granting you your wish," she answered, her voice filled with what Sam could only distinguish as fear.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Sam stammered. "You can't take it back! You can't take Dean!"

"Calm down…I mean, I knew your soul was hands off, and I really wanted it too, but…well, I guess they really didn't want you messed with at all," the demon answered.

"I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"You belong to him, Sam. He wasn't very happy when he heard that I had made a deal with you. He wasn't happy at all." The demon glanced away, her body shuddering as she recalled how unhappy her boss had been. She still bore the wounds of her punishment, though she hid it well.

"He? I don't belong to anyone…you're crazy!"

"You believe what you want. You're life has never been your own, little boy. It will never be yours…it'll always be his and when the time comes, he'll reveal his plans for you."

Sam shook his head, his stomach roiling at the demon's words. He had no idea what she was talking about, but he wasn't about to let her think she was getting to him. He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin defiantly. "Why are you here? You better leave if you know what's good for you!" he spat.

"Ahhh, there's my brave little soldier! I was wondering if you'd lost that stubborn streak too."

"You didn't answer my question! Why are you here?"

"For this," the demon answered before suddenly stepping forward and pressing her hand to Sam's forehead.

Sam screamed out as pain lanced through his head, sending him to his knees with bone jarring force. Sam's family strained against the demon's hold, ignoring their pain, their only concern for their youngest member who now lay writhing on the ground as the demon pulled her hand away and stepped back from the boy. Sam's screams turned to whimpers until finally, he fell silent, his body going limp as the pain overwhelmed him. The demon looked up at her three captives and waved her hand then took a few steps back from Sam as they dropped to the ground.

Dean was on his feet and already staggering across the yard toward his brother before John or Bobby had even made it up from the ground. John was the first of the older men to make it up and he was running toward his youngest within moments of his son. Dean reached Sam and dropped to his knees beside his stricken brother, his green eyes looking up with intense hatred to stare at the smiling demon as he tried to pull him from her touch. John had different plans as he ran straight for the demon before launching himself over his sons, his body slamming into the demon and knocking her away from his baby. The two enemies rolled on the ground until John was flung away like he weighed nothing. The demon sprang to her feet and glared at the man as he once again struggled to his feet.

"You stupid moron! I'm going to rip you to shreds! You've ruined everything!" she shrieked as she moved toward John.

Suddenly, the demon was stopped in her tracks as the sound of Bobby's voice, chanting in Latin, carried over the other night sounds. "Wh-what are you doing, old man! No…."

Bobby continued, his intense stare never leaving the demon's face.

"Y-you don't k-know what…you're…doing…I can't f-finish…stop…"

On Bobby's last words, the woman meatsuit's mouth opened wide and black demon smoke poured out on a scream. The demon smoke disappeared into the night and the woman's body dropped bonelessly to the ground. Bobby rushed over to the fallen woman while John ran to his sons and dropped down next to his baby. His fingers immediately went to Sam's neck, the father sighing in relief when a strong pulse met his shaky fingers. Blood trickled from Sam's nose, but the boy's breathing was fine. John glanced up and stared into the terrified eyes of his eldest son.

"He's okay, Dean," he said softly and nodded when Dean let out a relieved breath.

"But, what if she hurt him some other way? What could she have taken from him this time?" Dean asked fearfully.

"I don't know, Dean. We need to get him inside and when he wakes, I guess we'll find out," John answered as he slid his arms beneath his baby's body and easily lifted the young teen from the ground.

John glanced over as Bobby pushed back to his feet. Bobby shook his head then looked down at the still body at his feet.

"Dammit," John hissed, his heart going out to the family who had to be looking for their missing member.

"I'll take care of her, Johnny. Get the boys into the house," Bobby said as he looked back up at his friend.

John nodded and turned toward the house, his precious burden pulled tightly to his chest. Dean walked beside him, his hand coming up to grasp John's arm as the small family made their way across the yard. John ascended the steps and allowed Dean to step in front of him to open the door. He made quick work of the stairs leading up to the second floor and soon was gently pulling blankets up around Sam's shivering form as the boy lay in his bed. Dean refused to get back into his bed, insisting instead to climb onto the other side of Sam's bed, his back resting against the headboard, fingers carding tenderly through his brother's hair. Sam moaned and then his eyelids began to flutter. John knelt on the floor beside the bed while Dean leaned forward and cupped his brother's cheek.

"Sammy…that's it…wake up," Dean coaxed as he watched his brother's face expectantly.

Sam's head rolled toward his brother, his brow furrowed as he slowly came to. "D-Dean," he whispered weakly.

"Yeah, kiddo, it's me. Time for you to wake up now," Dean answered softly.

"But…you…I…what…"

"Sam? What's wrong?" Dean queried, his green eyes seeking his father's face before returning to his brother's.

"Y-you're…you're alive?"

"Yeah, of course…what…wait. Sammy, do you remember me?" Dean asked, his heart leaping at the possibility that his Sammy may be back. "Sam…come on…open your eyes."

Sam struggled, but finally was able to open his eyes and the sight of them left his family breathless.

**SN SN SN SN**

**Dun dun dun...oh no, did I just leave a cliffy for you all? Would I really do that after making you wait so long? Uh...yeah...of course! LOL So, I'll really try to post the next one sooner. Laziness be damned! Love you all...thanks for reading.**

**Cindy**


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, I didn't quite make the Sunday deadline I place upon myself, but I'm not too far off. I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

**Cindy**

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

Dean glanced up from his brother's face and smiled at his father. He lowered his gaze once again and stared into the soft hazel he'd been missing so much. "Sammy, you…"

"Dean…y-you're alive," Sam whispered, his hand reaching for his brother's, which Dean offered without hesitation.

"Yeah…thanks to you, kiddo," Dean answered as he gave his brother's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Wh-what? What do you mean?" Sam asked with confusion.

John leaned forward and took Sam's other hand. Sam flinched then rolled his head the other way. John smiled warmly and cleared his throat. "Sammy, what's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

Sam shuddered and closed his eyes, the boy swallowing heavily before he opened his eyes again. "I…I remember the harpy. It…it hurt Dean. He…he was…d-dying. It was my fault," Sam answered softly, his voice filled with tears.

"No, Sammy…it wasn't your fault," Dean said as he gave Sam's hand another squeeze.

"It was…I…"

"Sam, if it was anybody's fault, it was mine," John started. "I shouldn't have made you come on the hunt. None of this would have happened if I had just left you at the motel…or in the car," he continued.

"But if I weren't so useless…always needing protection…"

"Stop right there, Sammy. You aren't useless…"

"She came right for me, Dean…'cause she knew I was the weak one."

"Not because you're weak," John said, knowing that it was much more than that. He knew that Sam had some sort of homing beacon on him. Supernatural beings had always been attracted to him, like moths to flames.

"Sammy, the fact that I'm here proves that you're not weak. What you did…as stupid as it was, it took courage," Dean said as he helped his brother sit up then drew him to his side.

"What…what did I do?" Sam asked sheepishly.

"You found a crossroads and you made a deal with a demon, Sam…to save your brother's life," John answered softly.

Sam jerked his head toward his father, his hazel eyes wide. "I…I did? But…"

"Sam," Dean said, and smiled when Sam turned to squint up into his face.

Dean frowned as he stared down into Sam's eyes. "Sam, why're you squinting?" he asked.

"'cause you got the lights, off. I can hardly see you," Sam answered.

Dean sucked in a startled breath and looked up into this father's eyes.

"Sam…what do you see?" John asked nervously.

"What?" Sam replied, his brows knitted together in confusion.

"Sam…it isn't dark in here," Dean said softly.

Sam cocked his head to the side and frowned. "That isn't funny, Dean. It is dark. I can barely see you."

John pushed up from the floor then sat on the bed next to his youngest son. "Sammy…it isn't dark. It's your eyes…we thought because…we…" he stammered, voice filled with emotion.

Sam turned to face his father. "What's going on, Dad? What's wrong with me?"

John reached up to brush the hair from Sam's eyes and frowned when Sam jerked at the unexpected touch. "When you made the deal for Dean's life, the demon didn't take your soul, Sammy," John said.

Sam collapsed back against the headboard of his bed and lifted a hand to his eyes. "My sight…the demon took my sight," he whispered.

Dean glanced at his father with sad, green eyes then turned to face his brother. "Yeah, Sammy…she took your sight and…" he started, his voice trembling with emotion.

Sam closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "And there's more, right?" he finally said.

"Sammy, I think you should rest right now…we'll talk more in the morning," John started, but his youngest son leaned forward and cut him off.

"I'm blind, Dad! I can't rest. I need to know what's going on…please!" Sam cried.

Dean looked over at his father and sighed. "Dad…tell him everything," he finally said.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam wiped at his eyes, embarrassed by the tears he'd been unable to hold in as his father recounted the past few days. How he'd disappeared from the hospital, only to show up again after Dean had miraculously woken up. How neither John nor Dean had put two and two together until it was too late and Sam had been left sightless and without any memories of his family. He felt Dean pull him tighter to his side and relished the feeling of safety he found there. He laid his head back on Dean's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"So…why do I remember now?" Sam asked in an exhausted voice.

"We don't know. The demon must have done it, but we have no idea why," John answered.

"Sammy, do you remember anything about what she said to you?" Dean asked.

"No. I…I don't remember anything past leaving the hospital when I…," Sam answered, his voice trailing off as the memory invaded his mind.

"When you what, Sam?" John prodded gently.

Sam lifted his head and opened his eyes. "You…you sounded so lost, Dad. You said you were losing your son and I couldn't let you…I just couldn't. Me, you could live without, but not Dean and…"

"Sam…I could no more live without you than I could live without oxygen. You're my son and I couldn't imagine my life without you," John said as he took his youngest's hand.

Sam's lips quirk up into a sad smile then he sighed. "If it came right down to it…if you could only have one of us, Dean would be the obvious choice, Dad. He's the soldier…he's not a screw up like me…"

"Sammy…stop it! Just…shut up!" Dean cried.

"It's true, Dean and that's why I did it. Dad needed you…he wouldn't have made it if you would've died. I knew what I had to do. I remember leaving the room, telling Dad I'd fix it, but nothing after that…not until I woke up here," Sam said, his voice curiously void of emotion.

"Dad needs you too, Sam," Dean replied.

"I need you both. What do you think it would've done to me…to Dean if the demon had taken your soul, Sam?" John queried tiredly as he brushed a shaky hand over his face.

Sam sighed and shook his head. "I'm not sorry I did it. Dean's alive and…"

"And you're blind," Dean said with frustration.

Sam shut his eyes and turned his head away from his brother. "It doesn't matter," he whispered sadly.

Dean shot up and stared incredulously at his brother. "What did you just say! It doesn't matter? Are you f****** crazy?" he snapped furiously.

"Dean…easy," John said as he reached out and pried his eldest son's hand from Sam's arm.

"Dad…" Dean started, but Bobby's sudden presence at the door halted his tirade. John followed Dean's gaze then rose to his feet and moved toward his friend.

"How's the kid?" Bobby whispered, his eyes sweeping over the brother's, Dean's scowl not going unnoticed by the older man.

John shook his head then turned back to look at his sons. "Keep an eye on your brother, Dean…and be nice," he said before moving out into the hallway, Bobby following right after.

Bobby pulled the door to the bedroom shut then looked at his friend. "Sam okay?" he asked.

"He remembers us, Bobby, but…"

"But what?" Bobby asked when his friend failed to finish what he was saying.

John looked up at Bobby with forlorn eyes sighed. "He's still blind," John finally said before turning and heading for the stairs.

"Sh*t," Bobby hissed as he followed his friend down the stairs.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"What happened, Bobby?" John asked before lifting a bottle to his mouth and taking a long swig.

"I think it's my fault, Johnny," Bobby answered guiltily.

John looked up and eyed his friend. "What? How could this possible be your fault?"

Bobby shook his head and took long drag from his bottle. He glanced over the table at John then dropped his eyes. "I exorcised her, Johnny. She said she wasn't finished, but I still kept going. She was giving it all back and I stopped her," Bobby muttered miserably.

"Crap, Bobby," John said as he leaned back in his chair. "It ain't your fault. She told me I ruined everything. I stopped her before you ever got there," he continued.

Bobby removed his cap and scratched nervously at his head. He pulled his cap back on and glanced over at his friend. "What do you think happened out there, Johnny?" he asked.

John shook his head and shrugged. "Hell if I know. One thing's for sure…for what ever reason, that demon bitch gave Sam his memory back and by the looks of it, she was giving him his eyesight too, but I stopped her."

Bobby leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table and eyed his friend intensely. "You didn't know…we didn't know. All we knew was Sam was in trouble, John. That's it. We did what we thought we had to," he said.

"God, Bobby…what if he's blind for the rest of his life? That demon is the only one who can give him his sight back and we just banished the bitch to Hell. We can't summon her back…not now!"

Bobby dropped his eyes to the table, guilt weighing heavy on the older hunter. He's the one who exorcised the demon. He's the one who sent her to the pit and now the youngest Winchester could be blind for the rest of his life because of him.

"I'm sorry, John…I'm so sorry," Bobby whispered hoarsely as he lifted his gaze to his friend's tired face.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean waited until the door shut behind Bobby before he turned to his brother, his anger still simmering at what Sam had said. Sam was blind and he didn't think it mattered. Dean didn't understand how his brother could think like that, how he could think his eyesight didn't matter. What they did? Eyesight was everything. Without it, Sam was more vulnerable than he'd ever been before. How were they supposed to keep him safe? They couldn't leave him alone and defenseless, but they couldn't take him on hunts either. Dean was pulled from his thoughts when Sam's soft, tired voice suddenly sounded.

"Dean, I can hear you thinking, dude…"

Dean stared down at his brother and shook his head. "Sammy…"

"Look," Sam interrupted as he lifted his face up, his blank eyes staring just past Dean's shoulder. "I know this isn't good, Dean, but…but you're alive and I'm sorry, but that's what matters."

"Sam, do you realize how much more dangerous life just became for you? Huh? We're hunters dammit! We use our senses more than anything and you can't see! How do I keep you safe now? I don't know what to do!" Dean cried.

Sam sighed and turned his head away, the boy murmuring something Dean couldn't hear. Dean leaned forward and craned his neck so he could see his brother's face. "What'd you say?" he asked.

Sam turned toward his brother's voice and shrugged. "I…I said you could leave me here with Bobby," Sam finally answered.

"What? Are you out of your mind?" Dean cried incredulously.

"Or Pastor Jim's," Sam continued, ignoring his brother's outburst. "Dean, Dad's not gonna give up hunting and you know it…and you said it yourself, how am I supposed to hunt now? The best thing to do is to leave me here or with someone else."

"Best thing for who, Sammy?" Dean asked, voice shaking with anger and fear.

"For you…for Dad," Sam answered softly.

"For me and Dad. Well, what about you Sam? You can just let us leave you behind?"

"I have to. I don't want to, but I have to."

"Sam…"

"Dean…if I were to stay with you guys, you're both gonna be distracted worrying about me. I was the weak link before and now…"

"Dammit, Sammy! Stop cutting yourself down!" Dean suddenly shouted as he jumped up from the bed. He turned and rammed his fist into the wall then pulled his hand to his chest and turned to face his brother. "Sam…how can you say that you're weak? After what you did for me?"

"I couldn't live without you…I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't bear to see Dad falling apart," Sam whispered as he dropped his chin to his chest.

Dean dropped down on the bed next to his brother and draped his arm over Sam's thin shoulders. "Sam, that doesn't make you weak…"

"You would never do what I did, Dean. You're stronger than me."

"What? You think I could just watch you die, Sammy? Just move on?" Dean asked with a shake of his head. "You're crazy if you think that."

"I think…I think it'd be hard, but you and Dad…you'd get through it," Sam said in reply.

"You're wrong, Sammy. I wouldn't get through it and neither would Dad. What you did was stupid…we would've fallen apart without you. But, it took courage too."

Sam bit at his bottom lip and leaned over to rest against his brother's side. He rested his head on Dean's shoulder when the older boy pulled him closer to his side and sighed as he closed his eyes.

"Dean?"

Dean looked down at the mop of brown hair that rested on his shoulder. "Yeah, Sammy?"

"I don't want to be like this. I don't want to be left behind," Sam said, his voice thick with the tears he tried to keep at bay.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his little brother impossibly closer. "I'll never leave you behind, Sammy," he whispered. "Never."

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

**Well, that's it for now. Please let me know what you think.**

**Cindy**


	11. Chapter 11

**I know...I know! I had a lot of problems with this chapter. I was beginning to think I'd never get it finished. I'm still not completely happy with it, but I couldn't make you guys wait another day. So, I let you get to it and decide if I should have waited :)**

**Cindy**

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

**One Month Later**

Dean leaned his head through the open doorway of Bobby's den and frowned when he only found his father and the older hunter hunched over Bobby's desk, their noses buried deep into one of the many books that lined the den walls.

"You guys seen Sammy?" Dean called from the doorway, his expectant green eyes meeting John's as he looked up from the book.

"Not for a while. Why?" John asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"I just came in from working on the Impala and can't find him," Dean answered tightly.

Bobby looked up when he heard the tension in Dean's voice. "Did you check your room? Last time I saw him he was heading up for a nap," the older hunter said.

"I checked there. I checked everywhere, Bobby," Dean replied.

"What about out back? Maybe he took a walk or something," John said as he straightened up and stretched out his back.

"Sammy knows better than to go out by himself…"

"Dean, he's been cooped up in this house all day. With you out working on the car and Bobby and I researching this hunt, he's been pretty much on his own," John interrupted.

"Yeah, I know, but he could get hurt if he's out around the junk cars, Dad," Dean shot back.

"You gotta give him some room, Dean. This past month has been hard for him and he's finally starting to get some of his independent streak back," John said, his voice softening with understanding as he too was worried about his youngest son.

"It's too soon, Dad. I gotta go find him…make sure he's okay," Dean replied, the young man already turning toward the back of the house. "And if he's gotten himself hurt, I'm gonna kick his ass!"

John glanced down at Bobby and shook his head. "He'll never change," he quipped.

"Not when it comes to that kid he won't," Bobby agreed before returning his attention back to the book spread open before him.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean rushed through the kitchen and flung open the back door, the screen door barely slowing his pace as he threw himself down the stairs and out into the back yard of Bobby's house. He green eyes scanned the yard and the piles of rusted out cars beyond, but no chocolate colored mop of hair attached to a medium sized boy was anywhere in sight. Dean's heart rate picked up as he ran across the yard and entered the junk yard, eyes searching frantically for his missing sibling.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled as he hurried through the rows of cars, his heart dropping when each row revealed no little brother.

Dean finally slowed and bent over, hands on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. "Calm your ass down," he gasped. "Use your head, idiot."

Dean slowly straightened and scanned the junk yard. "Where are you, Sammy?" he whispered.

Dean walked a few yards before he stopped suddenly when a thought occurred to him. "No way…if that little bitch…son of a bitch!" he hissed as he took off toward the forest and the place he was certain he would find his baby brother.

Dean ran through the trees and within minutes could hear the sound of gurgling water where the creek ran through Bobby's property. He was headed for the place that Sam would always go when he was feeling down or just needed time to himself. Problem was that this time of year the creek was near the top of its banks and if Sam got too close, he could easily fall into the fast running water and…Dean shook his head against the image of his brother going under the water and picked up his pace. He broke through the trees and immediately looked for the large oak his brother had claimed many years ago as his 'thinking spot'.

Dean spotted the tree, but he didn't see Sam and that just revved up his fear even more. He hurried toward the tree and nearly collapsed with relief when the tips of Sam's sneakers came into view, the rest of the boy's body hidden by the large trunk of the tree. Dean's fear slowly dissolved and began to turn to anger. Not only had Sam left Bobby's house without telling his brother, he had trekked through the woods and to the creek where nobody knew where he was. It was dangerous and Dean was fuming by the time he rounded the tree, but the soft sniffling sounds coming from his brother made him stop in his tracks. Sam had his knees pulled up to his chest and his forehead rested on them. It was clear that his brother was crying and it didn't sit well with the older boy. Sam crying was never a good thing and Dean's anger grew, but this time it was at whomever had put his brother in this state.

"Sammy?" Dean called softly, not wanting to startle his brother.

Sam flinched and jerked his head up. He turned his face away from his brother and quickly brushed at his eyes with the back of his hand. He straightened up and pressed his shoulders against the tree as Dean slid down the trunk beside him.

"D-Dean…what're you doin' here?" Sam asked shakily, his face still turned away.

"What am I doin' here? What the hell are you doin' here? And why are you crying?" Dean cried in replied.

"I ain't cryin'," Sam answered softly.

Dean reached up and grasped Sam's arm then gave it a gentle squeeze. "Sammy…what's wrong? What're you doin' all the way out here by yourself?"

Sam sighed and turned toward his brother. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy making it apparent to Dean just how long he'd been out here crying. "Dean?" he whispered softly.

Dean let loose of Sam's arm and turned his body more toward the younger boy. "Yeah, kiddo?" he answered.

"Do…do you think I'm a…a burden?"

"What! Why would you ask that? Of course you're not a burden. What's goin' on, Sam?"

"I…I think Dad thinks I am."

"Sam, he doesn't think that. Why do you say that?"

New tears sprang to Sam's eyes as he stared past his brother toward the forest beyond. "I'm blind, Dean…"

"That doesn't mean you're a burden, Sam…"

"Dad wants me to stay with Bobby," Sam blurted before dropping his head back onto his knees.

Dean drew in a quick breath and rolled forward onto his knees. "What? No…you're coming with us, Sammy. Dad's not leaving you here!" he cried as he took Sam's head in his hands and lifted his brother's face up to meet his.

"I heard him, Dean. He wants to leave me here. He thinks we'd all be better off if I stay with Bobby!"

"When did you hear him say that?" Dean queried, anger once again rising within him.

Sam sniffled and leaned back against the tree. "Uh…a few hours ago I guess. I heard him and Bobby talking in the den."

Dean pursed his lips and tried to tamp down his rising anger. He knew he had to keep calm and get Sam back to the house, but as soon as that happened, his father was going to have some explaining to do. They'd already decided that Sam stayed with them. Dean had been adamant that his brother was not to be left behind. With a little bit of convincing, John had agreed that keeping his small family together was the best for all concerned. Now though, it seemed he was changing course and there was no way Dean was going to leave Bobby's without his brother in tow. Dean stood then reached for Sam's arms.

"Come on, Sammy," he said as he pulled his brother to his feet.

"Where're we going?" Sam asked, the boy allowing his brother to lead him away from the tree.

"We're going back to the house and then Dad and I are gonna have a long conversation," Dean answered.

Sam stopped and tried to pull away from his brother's grasp. "No, Dean…Dad'll be mad at me for listening in…then he'll really want to leave me behind!" he cried.

"No he won't. He knows that if you stay, I stay, Sam. I'm gonna get this all straightened out while you lay down for awhile," Dean said as he tugged Sam to his side and started toward the house again.

"Just…just leave me here then come back after you've talked to Dad…please," Sam begged as he weakly struggled against his brother's hold.

"I'm not leaving you out here! I don't even know how the hell you got out here and managed to keep from falling in the damned creek, Sam!"

"I could get out here in my sleep, Dean. And I can hear how close I am to the water. I'm not completely helpless you know," Sam said indignantly.

Dean shook his head as he dragged his brother along. "I didn't say you were helpless, Sam. I'm just saying that you…you need to let me know when you're gonna go off on your own. I was worried when I couldn't find you."

"'cause I'm blind and helpless and can't take care of myself. Maybe Dad's right. Maybe I should stay here. I'll just get myself into trouble if I come with you guys…"

"Shut up, Sam! You're not helpless and you're not staying here! Now come on…I'm hungry and tired and now I'm pissed too!"

Sam seemed to lose all of his fight and once again allowed himself to be led back to Bobby's without a fight. "You're mad at me," he said softly.

Dean scoffed and tugged Sam a little harder. "Yeah, Sam…I'm mad! I'm mad at you for scaring me and I'm mad as hell at Dad for making you think you're a burden!"

Sam dropped his head and didn't say another word as he and his brother made their way back through the woods toward Bobby's house. Dean made sure that Sam didn't trip on any of the roots that lay in wait to trip some unsuspecting hiker up and soon the two were weaving their way through the piles of wrecked and rusting cars behind the house. Dean pulled Sam up the steps and literally crashed through the back door.

"Dad! We need to talk…now!" he hollered as he led Sam to the couch and pushed him down upon the cushions.

Sam scrunched himself down into the corner of the couch as far as he could and waited fearfully for the coming storm to begin. If he wasn't to be left behind before, when his father found out that he had eavesdropped on his conversation, he'd for sure become a permanent resident at Bobby's house and the boy prepared himself for the moment when he'd be separated from his family for good.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

**Two Hours Earlier**

Sam carefully made his way down the stairs, his nap leaving him feeling more rested than he'd felt in a long time. Dean was finally letting him have some space, though the older boy was never very far away. Just far enough for Sam to feel like he wasn't being babied, but close enough in case Sam needed him. Sam could hear his brother through the open front door, cursing to high heaven, no doubt working on the Impala again. Sam could also hear raised voices and he furrowed his brow when he distinctly heard his name. He followed the voices toward what he knew was Bobby's den. He knew he probably shouldn't interrupt his dad and Bobby, but if he was the topic of discussion, well then, he certainly had a right to know what was being said. He had every intention of entering the den and letting his presence be known, but the words he heard as he neared the room stopped him dead in his tracks. Tears pooled in his eyes as he listened to the obviously private conversation.

"_Damn it, Bobby…it was hard enough keeping the kid safe before and now…now it'll be nearly impossible!" _

"_Give the boy some credit, Johnny. He may be blind, but…"_

_"But that's just it! He can't see…how can he defend himself if the need arises? Dean and I can't be watching him constantly when we're hunting a damned witch! We can't leave him at the motel or in the car…not alone. He's too vulnerable."_

"_John, you can't leave him here. I mean, don't get me wrong…I love the kid and he's no problem at all, but he belongs with his family. Besides, you promised Dean." _

"_I know, Bobby, but I just don't see how we can take him and keep him safe at the same time. I don't want to leave him, but I can't be worried about him when I'm dealing with a witch…or any other evil bastard for that matter. It wouldn't be safe for any of us."_

"_He's your son, John…"_

"_I know that! You think this is easy for me?"_

"_I think that you believe you'd be doing what's right for him, but you're really thinking about what's easiest for you. Look, it ain't gonna be easy, but you gotta take him."_

"_It's just one hunt…we'll be gone a week tops and…"_

"_And then it'll be another hunt…then another. At some point, you have to decide what's more important…finding Mary's killer or embracing the family that you still have with you."_

"_Don't go there, Bobby. You know my boys mean everything to me!"_

Sam turned from the door, unable to listen any further. He fumbled his way down the hall toward the kitchen, not wanting to hear any more about what a burden he was. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he made it to the back door. He stumbled out onto the porch and nearly fell as he hit the top step. He hardly cared though. Maybe he'd break his neck and then his dad wouldn't have to worry about what to do with his sorry ass. He somehow made it down the steps in one piece and cursed to himself when he tripped and landed hard on his knees. He pushed to his feet and headed in the direction he knew the forest to be. His only thought as he staggered blindly across the yard was how it would have been so much better for everyone if the demon would have just taken his soul that day.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"Dean! What's all the damned yelling for!" John hissed as he emerged from Bobby's dean and entered the living room.

Dean stood, shoulders squared, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed. John stopped short when he saw how angry his son was then his dark eyes trailed to where his youngest sat on the couch, the small boy looking as though he was trying desperately to disappear into the cushions. He furrowed his brow, confusion clearly on his face when he turned back to Dean.

"What's going on, Dean?" he asked tightly.

Dean took a step toward his father and took a deep breath. "I want to know why Sam felt the need to get as far away from this house as possible! I want to know why he thinks you think he's a burden! Why he thinks you want to leave him behind!" he growled, the young man seething as he saw realization fill his father's eyes.

John turned his gaze back onto his youngest son as he began to speak. "Sam…son, were you listening to me and Bobby earlier?"

Sam curled in on himself, but bravely lifted his face toward his father's voice. "'m sorry, sir…didn't mean to," he whispered.

"Sammy…you don't have to apologize to him," Dean said as he instinctively moved between his brother and father.

"Dean…"

"No, Dad. I want you to tell me what you said. Tell me that Sammy misunderstood what he heard," Dean said, his green eyes staring his father down.

John shook his head and took a step toward his son. "He didn't misunderstand. I told Bobby that I didn't think Sam should come on the hunt. I told him that it was too dangerous," he said.

"Damn it, Dad! I told you we weren't leaving Sammy behind! I told you I was not going anywhere without him!" Dean shouted, his outburst drawing Bobby out of his den, the older man standing just inside the entrance to the living room.

"Dean…calm down. I…"

"Don't, Dad! I can't believe you. We're a family…families stick together!" Dean cried.

"Dean, please…" Sam's soft voice called, but Dean's anger kept him from hearing.

"You can't just toss him aside like that, Dad…you can't!"

"I'm not, Dean…I…"

"You are! We talked about this! We stay together…always!"

"I know we talked about it. If you'll just listen…"

"What's to listen to, Dad? Sounds to me like you've made your decision!"

"Dean…" Sam tried again.

"I'm not going with you. If you want to leave Sam behind, then I stay behind too."

"Dean!" Sam finally shouted, the boy standing on his feet, face turning red when he felt three pairs of eyes turn his way.

Dean sighed and stepped toward his brother. "It's okay, Sammy. I hate hunting witches anyway," he said.

Sam dropped his head, chin to chest, his shoulders sagging. Dean frowned as he took another step toward his brother. "Sammy…I said I was staying," he said softly.

Sam lifted his chin and shook his head. "No…you need to go with Dad," Sam said softly.

"Sam…no, I…"

"You have to, Dean. Dad's right. I don't belong with you now. I'm a liability," Sam interrupted.

"Sam, I never said you were a liability," John said as he took a step toward his son. "You need to listen."

"I am a liability. I'm staying here with Bobby…you two go on your hunt."

"Sam…no," Dean said.

Sam turned toward his brother's voice and smiled sadly. "Just go, Dean. I'll be fine here," he said before shuffling toward the staircase.

"Sam…" Dean called, but Sam had made it to the stairs and had started climbing, his head hung low.

Dean turned toward his father and gave the man a deep glare. "You happy now, Dad?" he hissed before turning to follow after his brother.

"Dean…listen…"

"No…I don't want to hear it, Dad. Just leave me alone…leave us both alone," Dean said before disappearing up the stairs.

John sighed and dropped down onto the couch. He brushed his hand over his face and glanced up as Bobby moved to stand over him. "I screwed up, Bobby, and now they won't listen to me," he said tiredly.

"Well, then you make them listen, Johnny. You gotta make it right with your boys," Bobby said.

"Yeah, I know…but how?" John whispered sadly as he leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

Well, that's it for now. Please let me know what you think.

Cindy


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, I know. Its been ages. RL has conspired to keep me from writing, but I finally found the time to sit down and do it. An unexpected business trip among other things. Anyway, its a short one and not much action, but I promise the next chapter will make up for it. I had originally planned for more on this one, but have a Christmas party to go to tonight so I figured I'd post what I have and send another update sooner than normal. So sorry for the delay and the short update.**

**Cindy**

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Dean hurried to the steps and was surprised to find that Sam had already reached the top landing and was disappearing around the corner. He took the steps two at a time and caught up with his brother half way down the hall to their room. He could tell that Sam was tired as the boy was leaning heavily against the wall as he made his way down the hall. He took Sam's arm, but was shocked when his brother jerked away from him.

"Sammy…"

"Just…just leave me alone, Dean. You need to get ready," Sam said softly.

Dean took Sam's arm again and this time he didn't let him shake loose. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Sam."

Sam sighed and leaned against the wall. "Dean…you have to go. Dad needs you and…"

"And you don't? Is that what you're saying, Sam?" Dean snapped.

Sam flinched and pulled out of his brother's grasp. "I do, but…"

"But what, Sam? You want me to leave? You tired of me?"

"No!" Sam protested. "It's just…it's…"

"What, Sammy?"

Sam turned away and stumbled the rest of the way to he and Dean's room. He dropped down onto his bed and lowered his head into his hands. Dean slowly walked into the room and sat opposite his brother on his own bed. He reached out and grasped Sam's knee then gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Sam…tell me," Dean coaxed.

Sam lifted his head and stared blankly in his brother's direction. "I don't want you to resent me, Dean. I don't want you to hate me," he finally said.

Dean's eyes widened as he stared dumbfounded at his brother. "What? Like that would ever happen, Sam! Why would you even think that?"

"Because, Dean…you love hunting…"

"Sam, you're being stupid. If it's between you or hunting…you win," Dean interrupted.

Sam shook his head and sighed. "You say that now, but…but eventually you're gonna want to get back out there and then you're gonna resent me because I'd be holding you back and…"

"Shut up, Sam. You don't know what you're talking about," Dean shot as he moved from his bed to Sam's. He rested his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together and turned to stare at his incredibly smart, but clueless brother. "Yeah…I love hunting, kid, but…"

Sam turned his face toward his brother when Dean stopped talking. "But what?" he asked as he gave Dean's shoulder a nudge.

"But…I love you more, okay?" Dean answered.

Sam's eyes widened and soon the boy was blinking back tears that threatened to fall. "Really? You do?" he asked sheepishly.

"Are you kidding me, Sammy? Do I really need to answer that?" Dean asked softly.

"I…I know you…I just thought…I'm sorry…"

Dean draped his arm across Sam's shoulder and pulled the boy to his side. He shook his head let out a heavy breath. "Geez, Sam…for a genius, sometimes you can be really dense, you know that?" he said with a chuckle. "I'm not leaving you…not for hunting…not for Dad. If you stay…I stay. Simple."

"Thanks, Dean," Sam whispered as he rested his head on his brother's shoulder and closed his eyes.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

John stood outside his son's room, his chin to his chest as he listened to the boys talking. It warmed him to know how close they were, but it also hurt him, just a little, to know that he would never have the kind of bond with them that they had with each other. Sure, he loved them more than anything, and he knew they loved him too, but what they had with each other was special…one of a kind. It started the night he placed a six month old Sam in Dean's arms and it grew stronger as each day passed.

John lifted his head and eased the door open. He didn't want to interfere, but he had to talk to the boys. He had to fix what he had messed up before any more damage was done. He cleared his throat as he stepped into the room. "Boys…we need to talk."

Dean jerked his eyes toward the door and pulled Sam closer to his side. "What do you want? Haven't you done enough?" he spat.

"Dean…enough," John said, a hint of anger in his voice.

"You want to leave Sammy behind…don't tell me enough! I ain't leaving him!"

John shook his head and brushed his hand over his face. He walked across the room and sat on the bed across from his sons. Dean watched him with narrowed eyes while at the same time leaning forward to try and place himself somewhat in front of his tense little brother. John's throat tightened when he realized what Dean was doing. He was protecting Sam…from him.

"Look…Sammy…I…"

"Just stop, Dad. Nothing you can say will make this better! If you want to leave Sam here then fine! But I stay too!" Dean shouted as he leapt to his feet, his body trembling with anger.

"I'm not leaving Sam here," John simply said.

"What? But I heard you," Sam said softly. "You said…"

"I know, Sammy. I did say it," John said.

Dean stepped in front of Sam and glared down at his father. "So, what is it then, Dad? You told Bobby you wanted to leave Sam here, but then you say you aren't? What the hell?" he spat.

John glanced up at his son and shrugged his shoulders. "Look…I just thought that it would be better for Sam to stay behind. Bobby, in his infinite wisdom, made me see the error of my ways," he said. "Sam…I'm sorry that you heard what you did. You just didn't hear everything you needed to."

Sam shakily stood from the bed and eased around Dean. "So…you're not leaving me here?" he asked.

John stood, glanced at Dean then reached out for Sam when Dean stepped aside. He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and smiled down at him, the man wishing that Sam could actually see the rare sight. "No…I'm not leaving you, kiddo. We're family and we belong together," he answered.

Dean stepped behind Sam and glanced at his father. "I thought you were afraid to take Sam on the hunt," he said.

"Well…I still am, but…"

"I could just stay at the motel, Dad," Sam suggested.

"No…you'd be alone and unprotected. With the types that usually inhabit the places we stay, you…"

"Well, cough up a little more dough and then we wouldn't have to stay in dumps, Dad," Dean offered sarcastically.

John sighed and looked at his son. "That's not the point, Dean. The point is…well…we're safest when we stick together. All of us," he said.

"So…we…I…" Sam stammered.

John pulled Sam to his chest and wrapped his arms across his back. He glanced up at Dean, the teen offering a slight smile before lowering his eyes to his brother. "Tomorrow, we all three head out, Sam. We'll figure out the rest on the way," John said.

Sam pulled away from his father and lifted his face up. "Thanks, Dad," he whispered.

John smiled then looked up to find Dean watching him. Dean smiled and nodded before reaching out and gently pulling Sam from John's arms. He guided Sam to his bed and eased the boy down onto the covers. "Come on, Sam…you should take a nap. You've had a long day," he said.

"But, Dean…"

"No buts…you take a nap. I'll come get you when its time for dinner," Dean insisted.

"Fine," Sam pouted as he swung his legs up onto the bed a laid down.

Dean shook his head and reached for the blanket that was folded on the end of the bed. He pulled it over his brother and smiled when he saw that Sam's eyes were already closed. He glanced up at his Dad and motioned toward the door. John nodded and quietly walked toward the door. Dean followed him and turned to take one last glance at his brother before shutting the door behind him.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

"Thanks for everything, Bobby," John said as he shook his old friend's hand.

"You know you ain't got to thank me you damn idjit," Bobby grumbled in return. "Just take care of them boys…that's all the thanks I need."

"You know I will," John replied.

Both men stood in front of the Impala and turned when they heard the sound of footsteps on the porch. Dean led Sam to the steps and made sure the boy had hold of the railing before he let go of his arm and allowed him to navigate the steps by himself. Sam smiled appreciatively and carefully made his way down the steps. He followed the sound of Dean's footsteps and soon all four hunters stood in front of the gleaming, black car.

"Well, Dean…ya ready to get back into it?" Bobby asked as he glanced over at the teen standing before him.

"Hunting? Yeah…I guess," Dean answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You guess? You're not sure?" John asked, his brow creased.

"No…I want to hunt again, it's just…it's been awhile and…well…" Dean stammered nervously.

"You're worried about me, right?" Sam offered softly.

Dean turned to his little brother and grasped his shoulder. "Yeah…I am, Sammy. Can't help it," he answered truthfully.

Sam nodded and sighed. "I know. Maybe I should…"

"You're coming with us. It's like Dad said, we're safer together," Dean interrupted.

"Dean's right, kiddo. We stick together," John said as he knelt in front of his youngest son.

"You sure?" Sam asked meekly.

"I'm sure," John said in reply.

Sam smiled and reached out with his hand. "Bobby…thank you for everything. I'll miss you," he said as Bobby took his hand and shook it.

"Hey, it ain't like we won't be seeing each other again, squirt," Bobby said in reply.

"I know…just don't know how long it'll be though," Sam said.

Bobby gave Sam's hand a squeeze then pulled his hand free. "You'll be back before you know it," he said. "You take care of these two idjits…keep 'em outa trouble."

Sam smiled and nodded then allowed Dean to guide him to the Impala. "Bye, Bobby," he called before he slid into the seat. Dean shut the door behind his brother, waved at Bobby and got into the front passenger seat.

Bobby waved back then turned back to John. "Stay safe, Johnny and if you need anything, you know who to call," he said.

"Yeah…Caleb or Josh may be close," John said with a wink.

"Shut it, you idjit!" Bobby said, a laugh in his voice.

John chuckled then moved around the Impala and climbed behind the wheel. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. A wave out the window and the Impala peeled away, leaving a cloud of dust behind it. Bobby waved after the car, his heart heavy with worry.

"You keep yourselves safe…you're the only family I got left," Bobby muttered under his breath before turning to make his way back into his house.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

**That's it for now. Hope it didn't bore you too much. I promise to have more up soon. Happy Holidays everyone!**

**Cindy**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well, I wanted to get this posted on Christmas Eve, but...I just wasn't able to get it ready in time. At least I'm not too far past my goal. Anyway...I hope you like it.**

**Cindy**

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**Two Weeks Later-The Hunt**

John turned as the door opened and Dean stepped into the motel room. "Everything packed up, Dean?" he asked, though he knew his son would be on top of things without needing to be asked.

"Yeah, Dad…everything we need to put this kid killing witch out of business," Dean answered, the young man's body almost quivering with excitement.

"Settle down, Dean…there's still much to do before we confront her," John answered absently as he went back to studying the papers spread out before him on the small motel room table.

"Dad, we've researched this bitch to death…now lets put her where she belongs!" Dean shot impatiently.

John glanced quickly over to the bed where Sam lie sleeping then turned back to Dean. "Shhh…don't wake your brother," he said softly as he motioned for Dean to follow him outside.

Once they were outside the door John turned to Dean and grasped his shoulder. "Look, I know you want to get going on this…research is boring…I understand, but…but we have to think about Sammy. We have to figure out how to do this and still keep him safe," he said, his dark eyes gazing intently into Dean's green ones.

Dean nodded and then dropped his eyes to the sidewalk. "I…I was thinking that maybe…maybe it would be best to leave Sam here, Dad. This witch…she's pretty bad ass and I'm afraid she'll zone in on him," he said as he lifted his eyes back up to his father's face.

"I've thought about that, but it won't keep Sam safe. This witch is targeting kids Sam's age…five in the past two months and two of those were taken from area motels. He would be a sitting target. We can't leave him in the car either for the same reason. The only way to keep him safe is to keep him with us," John answered.

Dean leaned back against the wall and sighed heavily. "That's why you wanted to leave him at Bobby's isn't it? 'cause you knew how much danger he'd be in here," he said softly.

"Dean…"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I was a jerk to you and you were just thinking about Sammy. I was selfish…"

"No…you were right. We stick together, Dean…as a family," John interrupted.

"But…"

"Dean, I don't know if Sam's going to get his sight back or not, but if he doesn't…he needs to learn how to handle himself on a hunt. He needs to get back on the horse so to speak and…"

"But this one, Dad? Maybe we should wait for a regular old ghost hunt or something."

John shook his head, backed up and planted himself on the hood of the Impala. He watched Dean for several moments before he let out the breath he was holding. "I thought about that, but…"

"But what?"

"If I had left him at Bobby's, Sam would have lost all trust in me and to tell you the truth…I would have lost trust in myself."

Dean cocked his head and eyed his father with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"If I had left Sam, I'm afraid…I was afraid that it would become too easy to continue doing it and before you know it he wouldn't be mine anymore. Neither of you would be and I just couldn't do it. Maybe that was selfish of me, but you two are all I've got and I can't lose you, Dean. I've lost too much already." John dropped his chin and shook his head. He glanced over when he felt Dean sit down beside him.

"Dad, you're not selfish," Dean started. He nudged his father's shoulder and grinned over at him. "I get it…and…you're not gonna lose us, okay?"

John smiled back and nodded gratefully. He stood, clapped Dean's shoulder and stepped toward the room door. "C'mon, Sam'll be waking soon and he'll wonder where we are," he said.

Dean stood and followed his father, his outer calm hiding the inner turmoil and fear that nearly had him paralyzed.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN**

John brought the Impala to a halt behind a stand of trees that stood between his family and the house that evil built. The witch who had been terrorizing the town of Golden Oak, Ohio for the past two months, and most likely the last few hundred years if John's research was correct was inside, or so John hoped. He couldn't know for sure other than every other disappearance had occurred on a cloudy, rainy night. The skies were clear this night with no showers in the forecast. John turned of the ignition and turned to Dean. He could see the excitement, and the fear, on Dean's face and he knew why. The young man was worried about his brother. Not that John wasn't, but he couldn't let that get in the way of what lay ahead. If he did, he would put his boys in more danger than need be. He reached across the seat and clasped Dean's shoulder. Dean looked over and swallowed nervously. He saw the confidence in his father's eyes and nodded.

"We ready to do this?" Dean said as he turned to look at Sam in the back seat.

Sam smiled nervously as he stared blankly in his brother's direction. John turned around and looked at his youngest son. He saw the fear on Sam's face and momentarily reconsidered taking him into the hunt. Then, Sam straightened in his seat, squared his shoulders and pushed all his fear aside. "I'm ready," he calmly said.

John and Dean's hearts swelled with pride as they gazed upon their youngest family member. Sam had worked so hard the past weeks, helping any way he could to prepare for the hunt and now the time had come. They couldn't turn back now and they knew it. They couldn't allow one more child to become the witch's victim.

"You two stay here while I walk the perimeter. I'll be back in a few minutes," John said as he opened the car door as quietly as he could.

"But, Dad," Dean started.

"No, buts, Dean. I want to check things out before we go in. You and Sam stay here…I mean it," John commanded.

"Yes, sir," Dean answered solemnly.

"Good…I'll be right back."

With that, John closed the door and hurried away into the night. Dean watched his father go and when he could no longer see him, he turned back around and looked at Sam. He stared into the blank eyes and wondered not for the first time what it must be like for his little brother to be constantly trapped in darkness. His throat tightened up as guilt filled him. No matter how hard Sam or his father tried to convince him, Dean knew it was his fault that Sam was blind.

"Hey, Sammy? Can I ask you something?" Dean asked softly as he turned completely in his seat and rested his arms on the seat back.

Sam cocked his head and gazed in Dean's direction. "Yeah…what is it, Dean?" he answered.

"I…I was just wondering…um…what…"

"What, Dean?"

"Wh-what do you see?" Dean finally blurted out.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"You said that you have some sight, but I just want to know…exactly what do you see?" Dean clarified.

"Oh…uh…I guess it's like when you're in a dark room and you can see darker shapes within the darkness. Does that make sense?" Sam answered.

"I guess. So, you can see us moving around, but it's like the lights are out and we're just like…shadows maybe?"

"Yeah…just like that. I can tell when we're outside in the sun 'cause it's not quite as dark, but your shapes aren't as dark either."

"What's it like, Sammy?"

Sam dropped his eyes and took several deep breaths. He lifted his head at the sound of his brother's voice.

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to upset you," Dean said softly.

Sam shook his head and smiled at his brother. "No…it's okay. I…I don't like it, Dean. It's kinda scary. I hear things and I can't see them and sometimes I just…I just want to hide," he said softly as he once again dropped his head. "I guess I'm just a fraidy cat, huh?"

"What? No way, kiddo. You're anything but that, Sam. I don't know how you do it if you want to know the truth. I don't think I could handle it as well as you have," Dean said as he leaned further over the seat and gently lifted Sam's face up.

Sam's eyes welled and he brought a hand up to hastily wipe at his eyes before the tears could fall. "I…I hide how afraid I am, Dean," he whispered, his words barely audible to the older teen.

Dean had had enough and climbed into the back seat. He sat next to his brother and smiled when Sam immediately leaned against him. "Sammy, you don't have to hide how you feel," he said softly.

"But, Dad'll think I'm being a baby…"

"No way. Dad would never think that, Sam. If you knew how scared he is sometimes…how scared I am sometimes…"

"Yeah, right, Dean. You and Dad are never scared."

"Are you serious? You have no clue to how wrong you are. And do you know what scares us the most?" Dean asked as he craned his neck to peer at Sam's face.

Sam turned his head toward his brother and lightly shook his head. "Uh…never finding what killed Mom?" he answered softly.

"Well, that's one of the things that scares us, but its not what scares us the most," Dean answered.

"Then what is?"

"Losing you, Sammy. Plain and simple…you're everything to us and we would never survive if we lost you," Dean answered.

Sam's eyes widened as he stared over his brother's shoulder. "Dean…"

"It's true, Sam. It's what scares us more than anything."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment the front door opened causing Dean to instinctively move his body in front of his little brother, his hand coming up to reveal the pistol that was always within reach. John peered into the backseat and nodded his approval.

"You two ready to roll?" John asked, his dark eyes moving from one son to the other.

Dean glanced over at his brother and smiled. "How about it, Sam…you ready?" he asked.

Sam leaned forward and nodded. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he answered.

"Good, let's get moving then. It looks quiet right now, but that won't last, I'm sure of it," John said as he once again shut the door and went to the trunk.

Dean leaned over Sam and pushed the back door open then followed Sam out of the car. Both teens moved to the back of the car where John was busy removing the gear Dean had placed in the trunk earlier in the day. Once they were loaded up, John quietly shut the trunk and turned to his sons.

"Sam, you stay at your brother's side at all times. No matter what, you stay by his side," John said as he knelt in front of his youngest son.

"Yes, sir," Sam said softly.

John squeezed Sam's shoulder then stood before his boys. "Remember, her power comes from not only her altar, but her spell book as well. If you find the altar and book, you destroy them immediately. I want this over as fast as possible," he instructed.

"Yes, sir," both boys answered in unison.

"Keep your eyes and ears open…," John started, but stopped when he looked down at Sam. "Oh, god…I'm sorry, Sammy," he said apologetically.

"It's okay, Dad…really," Sam answered with a warm smile.

John reached out and ruffled Sam's hair then stepped back. He looked over at Dean, his dark eyes intent as he stared into his son's green ones. "You keep him close and stay as close to me as you can. Normally, I'd prefer to split up, but not on this one. This witch has been around for centuries. She's smart and extremely cruel. We get in, find the altar and spell book, destroy them and get out," he said.

"Yes, sir. Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to Sam. In and out…no worries," Dean answered as he pulled Sam to his side.

"Okay then, lets do this," John said. He turned and headed toward the dark, imposing house.

Dean took Sam's hand and moved it to his jacket pocket. "Hold onto my pocket, Sam, and don't let go," he instructed. As soon as Sam was ready, Dean followed after John. When they reached the steps to the porch, John ascended first then motioned for his boys to follow.

Dean turned to look over his shoulder at his brother then started up the steps. "Steps, Sammy…be careful," he said and smiled when he felt Sam grip his pocket harder.

Once all three Winchesters were on the porch, John went to work on the front door. It didn't take long before the three of them were standing in what was once the main foyer. John put his finger to his lips and motioned to the room to their right. Dean nodded, made sure Sam was firmly attached to his jacket then followed John into the room. It only took moments to clear the room before they moved to the next, and the next and the next. They covered the main floor in a short amount of time then moved to the second floor. That too was a bust and John was beginning to worry that maybe he'd gotten the location wrong. They moved silently back to the ground floor.

"Okay, the only place left is the basement. Keep tight, boys," John whispered.

"Dad…what if she isn't here?" Dean asked, his green eyes panning around the foyer nervously.

"Then we find the altar and spell book and destroy them. That should render her powerless," John answered.

"What…we just leave her alive?"

"No. We come back for her. We should be able to easily kill her then."

"What if she's gotten another kid?" Sam asked softly.

"Then we'll be here to stop her before she can do anything," John answered as he glanced down at his youngest.

Sam nodded and cast his sightless gaze around the room. He cocked his head as his hand tightened it's grip of Dean's jacket. Dean glanced around at his brother and watch as Sam moved his head slowly around.

"What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked softly.

"I-I don't know…thought I heard something," Sam answered. He swiveled his head around then loosened his grip. "I don't hear it now."

"Where was it coming from?" John asked as he moved closer to his sons.

"I don't know…I couldn't tell," Sam replied before dropping his head.

John looked around then looked back at Sam. "It's okay, Sam," he said then he looked at Dean. "Let's move."

They moved toward the kitchen, the two elder Winchesters watching for any movement in the shadows. John found a door and opened it, his flashlight illuminating a steep staircase leading down into darkness. He glanced back at Dean and nodded before he began to descend the steps. Dean followed with Sam at his side and came to a halt behind John when the man stopped at the bottom of the steps. John panned his flashlight around then stepped further into the dark room. Dean followed, his flashlight held in his left hand, pistol with silver rounds held in his right. Sam held tight to Dean's jacket and followed as best he could.

"Stay close…there's lots of hiding places down here. Look for anything that could be an altar," John whispered over his shoulder.

Dean nodded and panned his light around as he moved to the left of his father. John shown his light into a small room off the main room then turned around and shook his head. Just as he stepped away from the doorway, Sam yelled out a warning.

"Dad! Down!"

John instinctively ducked and felt rather than saw something skim over the top of his head. He immediately brought his gun up and fired, but whatever had tried to jump him had disappeared. He rushed to his sons and cast his flashlight around in a circle.

"Sammy…how did you know?" Dean asked as he too shone his light around trying to locate whatever had attacked his father.

"I…I heard Dad moving around then I heard something else from where he'd just been," Sam explained shakily.

"I didn't hear anything," Dean replied.

John glanced over his shoulder then back out into the room. "They say that people who lose their sight sometimes have more acute hearing," he offered as an explanation.

Dean nodded then stopped his search of the room when his light illuminated something odd. "Dad…I think I found the altar," he whispered. "Over there, by the boiler."

John followed the beam of Dean's flashlight and sure enough, across the room near the old boiler was an old table set up with various objects used in witchcraft. In the center of the table lay an ancient looking tome. John nodded to Dean then silently began to move across the room. Dean nudged Sam then took up behind his father, his eyes scanning continually for any movement. Just as John reached the altar, a black form flew from the corner and crashed into the startled hunter, sending him flying into the far wall.

"Dad!" Dean shouted in surprise as he brought his pistol up and aimed at the black form.

The form turned and Dean gasped at the evil face that stared back at him. Skin that seemed ready to peel away from bone shone gray in the flashlight's beam, while deep, black, soulless eyes stared with hatred at him. John groaned and moved sluggishly behind the witch, but she continued to stare at Dean before her eyes moved to the smaller hunter beside him. Rage flared within Dean when he saw the hunger in her eyes and he fired two rounds into the witch before his weapon was ripped from his hand and he was sent sailing across the room by an invisible force. Sam was jerked from the floor before his hand lost it's grip on Dean's jacket and he crashed to the floorboards with a painful grunt.

"Dean! Dad!" he screamed as he scrambled across the floor, his hands searching futilely for his father or brother.

Suddenly, Sam was pulled up from the floor by the scruff of his jacket and held aloft, his feet scrambling to find purchase, but only finding air. A foul smelling breath ghosted over his face and he felt his stomach lurch in revulsion. He swallowed deeply to keep his stomach contents where they belonged and turned his face away from the revolting smell. He felt a cold, dry hand grab his face then turn it back around before he heard a sniffling sound and felt as the witch sniffed his face and down his neck. He gagged when he felt the witch lick his exposed flesh.

"My, my," the witch hissed as she continued to hold the struggling boy. "A succulent meal delivered right to my door."

Sam suddenly found himself flying through the air, the breath forced from his lungs when he hit something hard and unforgiving. He dropped to the floor onto his side and gasped as he attempted to draw air into his lungs. He heard a shuffling sound and knew the witch was coming towards him. He had to find a way to stop her and save his family. The fact that he couldn't hear either his father or brother told him that they must be unconscious and possibly seriously injured. He couldn't allow for anything to happen to them. He scrambled to a seated position and reached for the knife that was strapped to his calf. Before he could pull the knife free, he was grabbed by his hair and jerked to his feet.

"Uhnnn…" Sam groaned as he was slammed against the wall he had been thrown into. His hands reached up as he tried to pry himself loose from the witches grasp.

The witch cackled as she tightened her grip on Sam's hair, pulling a pain filled cry from the boys lips. "I think I'll have my meal cooked tonight," she cackled.

Sam heard a loud wooshing noise then felt heat coming from his right. His stomach dropped when the implications of what the witch had said hit him. She had brought the boiler to life and intended on cooking him. Whether Sam would be dead or alive at said time of cooking the boy had no idea. He began to struggle further, but the witch's strength was far greater than his.

"Come now, boy…there's no use fighting me," the witch hissed into Sam's ear.

"Leave him alone!" a voice suddenly screamed then Sam heard a high pitched screech before he was dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

Sam struggled to his feet as the sounds of a fight filled the darkness around him. His skin crawled when he heard the scratchy voice of the witch. "You'll die for that, hunter…"

"Nobody hurts my brother and lives, bitch!" Dean's voice answered, the hatred filling each word with venom.

Sam heard Dean cry out then another screech as the battle continued. He had to find a way to help his brother before the witch made good on her threat. Suddenly, Sam remembered something and he began to stumble toward the source of the heat that now filled the once cold basement. Dean had said the altar was by the boiler. All he had to do was find the altar and the spell book. If he could destroy both, the witch would be powerless and Dean would be safe. He heard a loud crash, followed by a cry of pain before silence filled the room again.

"Dean!" he cried, but no answer came except the low cackle of the witch.

"Dean can't come to the phone right now, little one," the witch called from somewhere behind Sam.

Sam quickened his steps, his hands reaching out before him, searching for the altar. Suddenly, he was hit from behind and thrown forward, his body crashing to the floor, the weight of the witch on top of him. His hair was grabbed and his head yanked up before it was slammed into the ground beneath him. Sam groaned as he felt himself turned over. His shirt was ripped open and he once again felt the putrid tongue on his skin, tasting the flesh just below his collarbone.

"I've never tasted anyone like you," the witch said as she moved up to whisper in Sam's ear.

"G-Get off of me…leave me alone," Sam gasped as he tried to push up against the witch.

The witch merely laughed as she continued to sniff and taste the struggling boy. In his struggles, Sam was able to free one arm and he reached down his leg, his fingers stretching as far as they could before they were finally able to get hold of the hem of his pants leg. He pulled the material up then wrapped his fingers around his knife before pulling it free from its hidden sheath. Without any hesitation, Sam brought the knife up and plunged it into the witch's back as hard as he could. The witch screeched and rolled off of Sam, her hands reaching frantically behind her back for the knife that protruded just below her shoulder blade.

Sam struggled to his feet and staggered forward, once more trying to find the altar. Suddenly, his feet caught on something and he fell forward, the boy crying out as his cheek hit the edge of something hard. Groaning, but knowing he had no time to waste, Sam reached up and gripped the edge of what he now knew to be a table of some sort. He pulled himself to his feet and felt along the table with his hands. He found several items that felt like bones and was sure he was at the altar. He frantically felt along the table until his hands moved over what felt to be a large book. This was it, the spell book that granted the witch her powers. Sam grabbed the tome up and turned, but before he could find the opening to the boiler, he was grabbed around the throat and slammed into the wall.

"I'm going to rip you apart you filthy little bastard," the witch hissed as her hands tightened around Sam's throat.

Sam dropped the book to the ground and brought his hands up to scratch futilely at the gnarled hands that were strangling him. His feet kick out, but the witch only laughed as she squeezed the life from the weakening boy. Sam's struggles slowed until finally his arms dropped limply to his sides, his legs dangling, feet just inches from the ground. He knew he was going to die. Worse, he knew that he had failed his family and that they too would pay the ultimate price for his weakness. The last thing he felt was an intense heat washing over him before he felt no more.

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**Hmmmm...a Christmas cliffie. How nice of me! LOL I hope you all don't hate me now! I promise you won't have to wait too long to find out the fate of our favorite hunters. Until then...**

**Cindy**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, here is the next chapter. Been a bit busy with the holidays and traveling to visit my dad then getting back to work. Sorry I didn't post sooner.**

**Cindy**

A low groan, followed by eyelids fluttering was the first sign that John was awakening. He rolled onto his side and groaned again. His head hurt, his body hurt…hell, even his hair hurt. John struggled to open his eyes while at the same time trying to remember just how he'd come to be lying…_somewhere_…and hurting so badly. It was warm wherever it was…bordering on down right hot. Finally, John was able to pry his eyes open and suddenly everything slammed home. He was in the witches basement and…and Sam was battling the witch…alone. Frantically, John's eyes searched the basement, but the illumination coming from the open boiler door…_so that's where the heat was coming from, and exactly when had the boiler been lit anyway?_…only allowed for him to see so much. He couldn't see Dean, couldn't hear anything but the sound of the witch as she sniffed and…_was she licking his son?_ John's eyes jerked back to the scene across the room and sure enough the sound he'd heard was the slurping sound of the witch as she ran her tongue over his baby boy's chest.

John's stomach turned when he heard the witch tell Sam that she'd never tasted anyone like him. He heard Sam's gasping voice, but by then the blood was rushing through his head so fast the noise of it drowned out his boy's words. He had to get to his son, had to get the abomination off of him. He rolled over onto his stomach, his forehead momentarily resting on the dirty floor before he attempted to push himself up onto his hands and knees. Suddenly, an unearthly screech filled the basement and John whipped his head up in time to see the witch roll off of Sam, her gnarled, claw like hands reaching back behind her. It was then that John saw the glint of the fire from the boiler reflecting off what appeared to be a knife sticking out of the witch's back. John's heart swelled with pride as he realized that Sam had managed to stab the witch and was now pushing to his feet. John gasped when Sam suddenly tripped and fell forward, the awful sound of his face hitting the edge of the table making John cry out in alarm.

John watched in amazement as Sam grasped the edge of the altar and pulled himself to his feet. He watched as Sam felt along the table and silently cheered when his son's hands fell upon the spell book in the middle of the altar. His joy was short lived though as suddenly, the witch was on her feet and reaching for his baby boy. John tried to cry out a warning, but no sound came out of his mouth. He watched in horror as Sam turned just in time for the witch to grab him by the throat. John struggled to his knees, his dark eyes never leaving the scene before him. The witch had Sam up against the wall and…_oh, God…_his face was turning blue! Sam's eyes were wide as he dropped the book to the floor and began to claw at the witch's hands around his throat.

A wave of dizziness washed over John as he attempted to gain his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut, frantically willing the dizziness away. He didn't have time for this. Sam's life was hanging in the balance and John was on the verge of passing out. The dizziness passed and John opened his eyes and two things hit him at once. First, terror as he saw Sam's arms fall limply to his sides, and second, hope as he saw Dean crawling toward the boiler door, the spell book clutched tightly to his chest. Somehow, Dean made it to his feet and without any hesitation, he tossed the spell book into the fire. The witch gasped as the room filled with an overwhelming light, the heat of the light driving John back to his knees. He shaded his eyes with his arm as he stared across the room. Suddenly, the witch screeched and let go of Sam, the boy's limp body falling to the floor of the basement with a sickening thud. The witch staggered backwards, her arms flailing as she turned toward the boiler opening. She leapt across the floor and plunged her arms into the opening, her mouth wide open in a never ending scream. John found his strength as Dean fell to the floor and crawled toward his brother. He pushed himself up and stumbled as quickly as he could toward the altar. Once he reached the altar, he wasted no time in swiping the items that remained on the table to the floor. He then picked the table up and sent it crashing to the floor on top of the items he'd just disposed of. Another screech had him turning quickly to see the witch, her tattered clothing ablaze, rushing toward him. Without a second thought, he pulled his pistol from its holster and pulled the trigger. The silver bullet slammed into the witch's head, squarely between her soulless eyes. The witch went down in a heap, the flames consuming her clothing then alighting her hair.

John watched as the witch burned, the man not daring to turn his back on her until he heard a strangled cry from behind him. He turned, his heart leaping into his throat when he saw Dean leaning over his still brother.

"Sammy! No…don't do this!" Dean cried as he rolled Sam onto his back, his shaky hands immediately cupping Sam's blue tinged face.

John staggered toward his sons and dropped to his knees beside Dean. He reached down and placed two fingers against Sam's throat, but only the hint of a pulse could be found. He glanced over at Dean and was met with two wide, terrified eyes staring back at him.

"Dean! Snap out of it!" John barked harshly. "Help me get Sam away from the wall then get on his other side!"

Dean's eyes widened even more before he jumped to his father's command and helped to quickly, but carefully move Sam so that they could more easily work on him. Once Dean was in place on the opposite side of Sam, he looked up expectantly at his father.

"Good…now start chest compressions!"

Dean did as he was told, pressing on Sam's chest repeatedly then stopping and watching as John placed his mouth over the boy's and blew breath after breath into his lungs.

"Come on, Sammy…breathe!" Dean pleaded softly as he watched Sam's face for any sign that he was coming around.

John straightened as Dean automatically began chest compressions again, the two working in tandem as they fought desperately to bring their youngest back to them. Both begged and pleaded for Sam to breathe, to not leave them, to just wake up already, neither hunter caring that their emotions were showing. Their only care was that Sam take a breath so the horrible blue tinge would leave his lips. Finally, when panic threatened to overwhelm both father and son, Sam gasped then broke into a coughing fit that ended with him emptying his stomach all over the floor. Thankfully, John had had the foresight to roll his son onto his side when the coughing had begun or they would have had a whole new emergency to deal with.

Once Sam stopped vomiting, John rolled him back onto his back. Sam's eyes remained closed, but at least he was breathing. Dean reached out and brushed his fingers through Sam's hair before he leaned over and rested his forehead against Sam's and closed his eyes.

"God, Sammy…oh my God," he whispered as he slid his arms beneath his brother and pulled him up to his chest. He tucked Sam's head under his chin and gently rocked him while rubbing one hand in circles over his back. He looked up into his father's dark eyes and shook his head before pulling Sam closer and lying his cheek on top of the boy's head.

John slowly stood and shuffled over to the smoldering heap that was once the witch. Not much remained, but John was taking no chances. It took several minutes, but finally John had redistributed the charred remains into the boiler. He wasted no time in returning to his sons. He gently pulled Sam away from Dean's chest and made sure that the boy was still breathing before he tried to take Sam into his own arms. Dean tightened his grip on his brother and pulled the boy back to his chest. John didn't have the strength nor the heart to deny Dean so instead he leaned over and helped the young man to his feet. They slowly ascended the steps and made their way out of the house. Finally, they made it to the Impala where John opened the front passenger door and helped Dean and his precious burden into the seat. John rushed around the front of the car and slid in behind the wheel. He glanced over and met Dean's eyes before he started the engine.

"Dad, are we taking him to the hospital?" Dean asked as John pulled away from the house.

John glanced over and eyed his son carefully. Sam's chest steadily rose and fell and his color was improving. He looked up at Dean and shook his head. "No, we'll take him back to the motel," he finally answered.

"But, Dad…"

"Dean…tell me, how would we explain his injuries, huh?" John interrupted. "They'll take one look at the bruises on his neck and put him in protective custody. We can't take that chance," he continued, his dark eyes moving to the road before him.

"But, she…she strangled him. What if his throat swells shut? What if he has brain damage? I mean, he hasn't woken up yet, Dad!" Dean cried, his voice holding more than a little bit of panic.

John sighed, but kept his eyes on the road. He had the same fears, but what could he do? He couldn't take the chance that Sam would be taken from him. "Dean, I've had experience with this, okay? His heart didn't stop beating so his brain was still getting oxygen. Sam will wake up and he'll be fine," he said.

"But…"

"Look, if he hasn't woken in a few hours, or if he seems to be having problems breathing, we'll take him to the hospital…I promise."

Dean looked over at his father then down at Sam's face. He seemed to be breathing easily, despite the horrifying bruises around his throat. His face was a bit pale, but other than that and the deep bruise that had formed on his cheek, his color was pretty good for having just nearly been strangled to death. Dean placed two fingers against Sam's neck and felt a steady pulse beneath them. He glanced over at John and nodded when the man looked over at him.

"Okay, but we take him in at the first sign that something isn't right," Dean said evenly.

"Deal," John responded before turning back to the road.

Dean looked back down at Sam and smiled. He brushed the hair from Sam's eyes then gingerly ran his fingers over the bruise on the boy's cheek. "Don't worry, Sammy…I'm gonna take care of you and you're gonna be just fine. I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered before planting a brief kiss on the boy's forehead.

John smiled to himself and silently said a prayer that they would be able to keep that promise.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN**

John stretched his arms high above his head and yawned before resuming his position of elbows on knees, dark eyes glued to his youngest son's face and chest. He took a second to lift his eyes to his eldest son whom lay sleeping on the other side of Sam. He smiled when he remembered to look on Dean's face when John suggested he move to the other bed to get some sleep. Of course Dean wasn't going to leave his brother's side, not even if it meant that only a few feet separated them. The night's events had scared both Winchesters more than either wished to admit and neither wanted to be too far away from Sam. They had nearly lost the youngest in their family, but they also knew that it was because of Sam that they were able to kill the witch in the first place. Somehow, the boy had fought off the witch and gotten hold of the spell book. He'd given them time to finish what he had started when they were out for the count.

John looked back down at Sam and smiled proudly. _'He's so small,' _he thought as he watched Sam's chest rise and fall. He reached forward and removed the icepack he had placed around Sam's throat, then stood and went to the icebucket and refilled the pack with fresh ice. He moved back to the bed and placed the icepack back on Sam's throat. He settled back onto his chair and had just leaned over in his chair when Sam let out a soft moan. John immediately moved from the chair to the bed and reached out to cup his son's face.

"Sammy, wake up, son," he coaxed as he rubbed his thumb over Sam's bruised cheek.

"Dad? Is Sam okay?" Dean asked sleepily, the young man pushing up onto his elbow and looking down at his brother's face.

John glanced at his eldest and smiled. "He's waking up, I think," he answered.

Dean sat up quickly, turned and sat on his knees then took Sam's hand, his green eyes never leaving Sam's face. "Hey, kiddo…wake up. You've been sleeping long enough," he said softly.

Sam moaned again as he rolled his head toward his brothers voice. "Mmm…D'n?" he rasped as his eyes fluttered open.

Dean squeezed Sam's hand as he glanced up at his father. "Yeah, Sammy…'bout time you woke up," he answered as he turned his gaze back to his brother.

"I…," Sam started, but a coughing fit suddenly hit him and his family barely got him turned on his side before he threw up for the second time that night.

Once he was done, Sam collapsed back on the bed, his latest bout of sickness taking every ounce of energy out of him. John left Sam in Dean's capable hands while he went to the bathroom to retrieve a cold washcloth and glass of water. When he returned from the bathroom he had to smile when he found Dean leant up against the headboard with Sam pulled up practically in his lap. He was speaking softly to his brother and Sam was nodding lightly as he rested his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean glanced up and smiled tiredly when John neared the bed. John sat on the edge of the bed, causing Sam to startle slightly at the unexpected movement. He relaxed when John reached out and brushed the hair from his sightless eyes.

"It's just me, kiddo," John said as he laid the cool washcloth on Sam's forehead.

Sam closed his eyes and sighed lightly as he nestled closer to his brother's side. "What's wrong, Sam?" Dean asked as he looked down at his Sam's face.

Sam turned his face up toward Dean's face and opened his eyes. "I…I'm sorry," he answered, his voice sounding like he'd swallowed broken glass.

"What? What're you sorry about?"

"I screwed up…I almost got you and Dad killed and I…"

"Whoa…wait just a minute, Sam," John interjected as he reached out and grasped Sam's arm. "You didn't screw up and you certainly didn't almost get us killed."

"But…I dropped the book. I didn't get the job done…I…"

"You went up against a witch when both Dean and I were out of the picture. You fought her long enough to give us time to finish what you started. You almost died trying to protect us and all of the potential victims out there," John said as he reached up to cup Sam's cheek. "I'm so proud of you, son."

Sam's eyes widened as he turned his tear filled eyes toward his father. His lower lip quivered as he fought to hold the tears at bay. "You…you are?" he finally whispered.

John nodded, forgetting that Sam couldn't see him. He leaned forward and planted an uncharacteristic kiss on his son's head. "More than you'll ever know, kiddo," he whispered back in reply.

"We're both proud of you, Sammy," Dean said, his own eyes glistening as he watched his father and brother.

John pulled away and smiled down at both his sons. "Now, you feeling like you could eat something?" he asked.

"Hell, yeah! I'm starving!" Dean exclaimed, his green eyes suddenly sparkling.

John shook his head as he glanced at his eldest son. "I know you could eat, Dean. I was talking to your brother," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh…I…"

"So, you hungry, Sam?" John interrupted with a grin and a shake of his head.

"My throat hurts…I…I don't know if I can eat anything," Sam rasped as he lifted a hand to his neck.

John nodded as he glanced at Dean. "Well…how about soup? We can get you broth," Dean offered.

"Yeah…and maybe a milkshake?" John added.

Sam thought for a moment then smiled and nodded his head. "Yeah…that sounds good," he answered softly.

John smiled then stood from the bed. "Soup and milkshake it is then. And…double cheeseburger with extra onions for you, Dean?" he asked.

"Don't forget the cheese fries…and pie," Dean replied with a grin.

"Got it. Keep an eye on your brother while I'm gone," John said.

"You know it, Dad," Dean said as he pulled Sam closer to his side.

John nodded and turned toward the door. He stopped and turned when he heard his youngest call out to him.

"Dad…is the witch…is she dead?"

"Yeah, kiddo. She's dead," John answered.

"So, she's not gonna hurt anymore kids?"

"No…she's not."

"You guys got her. That's good."

"No, Sam. We all got her."

Sam smiled shyly and leaned back against his brother. "Thanks, Dad," he whispered.

"You're going to be a great hunter, Sammy," John said before turning and leaving Sam in the capable care of his brother, a broad smiled filling his face as he closed the door behind him.

**That's it for now. We're coming to the end...possibly only one chapter left. Not quite sure yet. Anyway, please let me know how I'm doing and I'll get working on the next chapter. Take care all.**

**Cindy**


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay guys, this is it. The final chapter. I want to thank each of every one of you for sticking with me on this. For all of the wonderful reviews, thank you so very much. For all of the story alerts, favorites, etc...thank you, thank you, thank you! To MysteryMadchen...thank you for the wonderful prompt for this story. I really hope I did it justice. Anyway...on with the story.**

**Cindy**

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John shook Bobby's hand before turning and making his way down the steps. He strolled toward the Impala where Dean stood waving at his surrogate uncle. Sam stood beside his brother, the bruises that circled his neck almost faded from sight now. John had brought his sons back to Bobby's once Sam was strong enough to travel and the family had spent nearly two weeks there, but now it was time to leave. There was a poltergeist in Wyoming that was causing all sorts of trouble and they needed to hit the road before the nasty spirit could seriously hurt anybody.

"You take care of those boys, Johnny," Bobby called from the porch.

John turned to his friend and nodded. "You know I will," he called back before turning back to his sons. "You two ready?" he asked.

"Yeah, Dad," Dean answered as he pushed away from the Impala.

John smiled at his eldest then turned his eyes upon Sam. "How 'bout you, kiddo? You ready?" he queried. He reached forward and cupped the nape of Sam's neck and pulled him to his body when Sam lifted his face up and nodded. He held his son close for a moment then stepped back. He glanced over at Dean, who nodded then reached for his brother.

"Come on, Sammy," he said as he led Sam to the back passenger door. Once Sam was deposited safely in the backseat, Dean climbed into the front seat. He rolled down the window and leaned his head out. "Bye, Bobby!" he shouted as he once again waved to the old hunter.

Bobby waved back and stepped down to the top step of his porch. He watched as John strolled to the driver's door and slid behind the wheel of the Impala. The roar of the engine signaled that the Winchesters would once again be out of Bobby's sight, but never, ever out of his mind. John honked the horn, waved out the window and then the Impala and its occupants were speeding down the road away from the junkyard. Bobby watched until the car was out of sight before he turned around and disappeared into his house, the front door shutting heavily behind him.

**SN SN SN SN SN SN**

Dean sat in the front seat of the Impala, his head leaned back to rest upon the seat back as he stared out the open window. He relished the feel of the cool breeze that washed over him as the Impala moved down the road. He rolled his head the other way and glanced over the back seat to where his little brother sat. His heart hitched in his chest as he watched the boy's fingers slowly move over a page of the book of Braille that John had found for him. Sam wore headphones where no doubt instructions on the basics of reading Braille played. Dean sighed as he turned back to stare out the windshield. He brought his hand up and brushed it over his face. He turned his head to look out the side window when he suddenly felt tears well in his eyes. He jumped when John's deep voice cut through his thoughts. He wiped hastily at his eyes then turned to his father.

"Huh? Did you say something?" Dean quickly asked.

John glanced over before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I asked if everything was okay," he answered before once again glancing over at his son.

"Uh…yeah. Everything's fine," Dean answered, his green eyes wandering to the backseat.

"Dean…come on. I know that's not true," John said.

Dean turned back around and dropped his eyes to his lap. "It's…it's Sam, Dad," he finally said as he looked back up at his father.

John looked over at the miserable look on his son's face and frowned. "What about Sam?"

"You bought him a book of Braille, Dad. He's learning to read Braille," Dean answered softly.

"Yeah…you know how much your brother loves to read, Dean. I wanted to give that to him. What exactly is bothering you?"

"You…you don't think he's gonna see again, do you? You think that he's going to be blind forever, Dad."

"Dean, no…"

"You bought him a how to read Braille book! Why would you do that if you thought Sammy was gonna see again?" Dean's eyes shone bright as he stared at his father, those eyes begging his father to make everything okay again.

John swallowed deeply then looked for a spot to pull off the road. Once he had the Impala stopped he turned in his seat to face his eldest son. "Dean, I…"

"Why are we stopped? Is everything okay?" Sam's voice interrupted and both older Winchesters turned to see Sam staring straight ahead, the headphones pulled down and hanging around his neck.

"Uh…everything is fine, Sam," John answered. "I just heard a noise in the engine. We're gonna check it out. You stay here, okay?"

"Oh…okay, Dad," Sam answered before moving the headphones back up to his ears and relaxing back against the seat.

John looked over at Dean then turned and opened the door. He climbed out, walked to the front of the car and opened the hood. He waited for Dean to join him and when the teen did, he turned and sat back against the front of the car and sighed. Dean sat next to him, his eyes staring at the ground at his feet.

"Look, Dean. I'm not going to give up on Sam seeing again, but…but I have to think about the possibility that he may not and I want his life to be as close to what it was before. Reading is very important to Sam…you know that," John explained, his dark eyes watching as the muscles in Dean's jaw twitched as the teen took in the words his father was saying to him.

Finally, Dean glanced over, his eyes glistening before a single tear slipped down his cheek. "Dad…I want him to see again. I don't want him to be blind. It's not fair! What did he ever do but…but be the best little brother anybody could ever ask for? He's blind because of me and…and I can't do anything to help him," Dean cried, the tears coming in full force now.

John stood and reached for his son. He took Dean by the shoulders and looked down into his wet, sad eyes. "Dean…first of all, Sam's blindness is not your fault and second of all, you help him everyday. Everything you do, you do for him and…and he knows it, Dean. He knows it," John said.

Dean shook free of John's grip and stared up at his father in disbelief. "How can you say that Sam's blindness isn't my fault? He's blind because he made a deal to save my life!" he cried.

John's gaze moved to the field beyond the Impala, his eyes sweeping over the high grasses blowing gently in the breeze. He sighed before returning his attention to his son. "Dean, Sam made that deal because he loves you more than anything. Do you realize that he probably expected to lose his life…to lose his soul? If he was willing to give up his life, I'm sure the alternative…his blindness…is something he can live with…if it comes to that," John said, the man quickly adding the last part when Dean's eyes widened at the very thought that Sam would remain sightless forever.

"He shouldn't have made that deal! It's not his job to sacrifice himself for me! Not for either of us, Dad! We're supposed to sacrifice for him."

John reached out and rested his hand on Dean's shoulder. He made sure Dean was listening before he spoke. "Dean, what do you think your death would've done to Sammy? Do you think he could have lived without you? Do you think because he's younger he doesn't feel the same kind of loyalty? The same kind of love?"

"No…of course he does, but he's…"

"He's your brother. He loves you just as much as you love him. You would have done the same thing as he did if the roles were reversed. How could you expect him to let you die when he has knowledge that he can save you?"

Dean stared at his father, his green eyes once more glistening as tears pooled in them. "Dad…I don't know how to handle this. I feel sick every time I look at him and wonder if he's ever going to see again. I…"

"Dean?" Sam's soft voice suddenly called, bringing Dean's words to a halt.

Dean hurried around his father until he was standing in front of his little brother. "Sammy…I didn't hear you get out of the car. You shouldn't be standing on the side of the road. You…"

"You need to stop blaming yourself, Dean," Sam interrupted as he shuffled closer to his brother. "I'm okay with it."

Dean stepped forward, grabbed Sam's shoulders and moved him away from the road. Once Sam was safely away from the road, Dean leaned him up against the front of the car then sat next to him. "How can you be okay with being blind, Sammy?" he asked as he turned his head to watch his brother's face.

Sam shrugged and turned his head in the direction of his brother's voice. "You're alive, Dean. I'm alive. Being blind is…well, it sucks, but it's better than either of us being dead. I'd do it all over again if it meant I wouldn't lose you," he answered softly.

"Don't say that, Sammy. Please don't say that," Dean said as he stood and faced his little brother.

"Dean, I can't help it. If there's something I can do to save you…to save Dad…I'm gonna do it. You put yourself in between me and that harpy and you nearly died. I made a deal to save you and I'd do it again, just like you'd put yourself between me and danger again."

"I…you…no, that's just wrong. That's…"

"Why's it wrong? Because I'm weak? Because I'm not like you?"

"What? No! You are not weak, Sammy. Just the opposite. It's wrong because it's not your job to sacrifice for us. You're my little brother. It's my job to protect you."

"And you're my big brother. It's my job to protect you."

"Sammy," Dean said as he watched his stubborn little brother. "Let's just make sure it never comes to that again, okay?" he continued as he reached out and took Sam's arm.

Sam allowed Dean to guide him back to the back seat of the car and smiled when Dean ruffled his hair. "Hey, Dean?" he asked before Dean had a chance to shut the door.

Dean leaned down and looked at his little brother. "Yeah?"

"I'm not giving up you know," Sam said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, his gaze drifting to his father who had come to stand behind him before returning his gaze to Sam.

"I'm not giving up on seeing again," Sam answered with a shrug of his shoulder. "Just wanted you to know."

Dean swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment. "Okay, Sammy. That's good to hear 'cause I'm not giving up either," he finally said.

"I know. You never give up on me, Dean and I'll never give up on you either."

Dean reached in the car and gave Sam's arm a gentle squeeze. "I know you won't, Sammy," he whispered before backing out of the door and shutting it as quietly as he could behind him.

Dean glanced up at John before moving around to the front of the car. He shut the hood then walked to the front passenger door. He slid into the car and glanced over as John did the same. John smiled before turning to look at his youngest son in the back seat. "You two ready to roll?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," both Dean and Sam answered in unison.

John smiled and turned around. He turned the key in the ignition and listened as the engine roared to life. He pulled back onto the road and the small family was once again on the road. They may be a little more damaged than they were before, but they were still together and that was all that mattered. That was all that ever really mattered.

**The End**

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**Okay, I know! I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. My gal really wanted Sam to stay blind, at least for a while and this was her story after all. Now, that being said...I can't leave Sam blind forever so...there will eventually be a sequel. I hope that you'll comment one last time and let me know how I did. Thank you all again! I love each and every one of you!**

**Cindy**


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